


Madness ~ A Short Novel

by The_Dorkzilla



Series: The Niccals Saga [4]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2nd generation Niccals family, 50 yrs in future, Alec Niccals, Alternate Universe, Ben Niccals, F/M, Gore References, Grimdark, Hailey Niccals, Haunted House, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lexi Niccals, Murdoc Niccals - Freeform, NSFW, Tessie Niccals, ghost story, references to Murdoc, references to deceased parent, serial killer references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 51,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25570087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Dorkzilla/pseuds/The_Dorkzilla
Summary: Book IV of the Niccals SagaIt's been a year since his parents have passed and Alec Niccals is trying to move forward with his wife and teenage daughter.  Things in the home aren't as they seem and he can't figure out if he's losing his mind or if all the skeletons in the Niccals family closet have finally come to light.
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Niccals Saga [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823239
Comments: 8
Kudos: 1





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: NON CON REFERENCES

Still bleary from sleep and the blurred edges of a nightmare, Alec looked around the bedroom carefully. He could feel himself shaking, dully aware that he could no longer recall too much about the nightmare. The finer details evaporating from his consciousness even as he struggled to remember what exactly had been so troubling about it. As the moments crept along, the more it faded out. He wanted to think there was something significant about the nightmare, something important. Reckon it didn't matter much now, he couldn't remember a bloody thing. Sighing heavily, he curled deeper into the blankets, not quite ready to get out of bed and face the day. If anything, allow him a few more moments of shut eye. Even ten minutes would be stellar.

Opening his eyes again, he muttered a low curse. So much for wrangling a few minutes more of sleep. Too awake now to even consider dozing back off. He scrubbed his hands across his bearded face, taking in the now familiar surroundings of the master bedroom. It had once been his parents' room. Their furnishings long moved out to the basement below, Alec and Tessie had slowly taken over the grey-stone cottage following his father's passing. It felt like home but not home, if that made any lick of sense. Like they belonged there, but were invaders. Tessie had been hesitant about moving into the old cottage, but relented finally when Alec said they'd be moving all the old furniture to the basement and move their furnishings in right away, starting with their own bed. While some part of him felt bad for banishing most of his parents' belongings to the basement, it had made sense if they truly wanted to make the house feel theirs. It had been a task Alec wished he could have burdened onto someone else, though. Having to go over his father's will and then be the one to slowly go through all their personal belongings one by one. He'd been an emotional mess through the entire ordeal, but had managed to do as his parents requested. His father's final wishes were simple: take the house, keep what matters and do whatever they pleased with what remained.

Now, almost a year later, it still sometimes didn't seem real to Alec. He'd lost both his parents within a week of each other, but it still felt like they'd come waltzing through at any given moment. He'd lost count of how many times he'd been in the kitchen and felt something odd. Or in the living room and something told him they'd be coming into the room soon, only to turn around and see nothing. Their presence could still be felt all through the house. But his Dad had said the same thing after Mum had passed. At the time, Alec had brushed it off. He'd simply assumed his Dad had gotten so used to her being there that he couldn't fully adjust to being alone. An old man's loneliness and nothing more. Alec found himself unable to dismiss the feelings he got as the weeks and months passed. Whether he was truly feeling their presence or he was merely sensing their imprints within the house, he couldn't say. It was unsettling at first, but with the passing weeks and months, became more tolerable and even comforting.

Realizing that sleep would be futile, Alec pushed himself up and swung his legs to the side of the bed. Clad in nothing more than his briefs, he shivered against the slight chill in the room. From downstairs, he could hear Tessie and Lexi carrying on about something. Girly rubbish, no doubt. Seemed like that was all Lexi ever talked about anymore. Boys, boys and more boys. Oh there was the occasional remark about her classwork and maybe a juicy little tidbit of gossip about some girl from her school, but for the most part, the girl's focus had been primarily on the opposite sex. Alec wasn't sure what to think about that. Dealing with Ben and his teenaged transgressions now seemed like a cake walk compared to this! And the girl had grown almost overnight. She'd gone to bed a little girl and had awoken needing a D-cup brassiere and a taste for clothes that weren't proper on a fucking stripper. Could be worse, he reasoned. It was mostly all talk and show at the moment. There was no mention of dates yet. That would only be a matter of time, he was sure of that. One of Ben's mates had accompanied the lad for a visit not long ago and the gruesome little toe rag couldn't keep his eyes to himself. It had taken everything in Alec's power to not lay the little fucker out. What the fuck did a thirty year old man see in a sixteen year old little girl?

Shaking his head, he slowly got to his feet and grabbed a pair of cotton pajama bottoms. He had too much on his mind as it was and the last thing he needed to stress about was how to keep all the little heathens away from his daughter. He padded out of the master bedroom and made his way down the hall, pausing just outside Amy's old bedroom, the door ajar. She'd been a taboo subject for nearly two decades. Even after their father had passed, Alec refused to utter her name. Still honoring his Dad's desire to never speak of her again in the house. It was like some unspoken rule amongst them. Not even Tessie or Ben brought it up. The only thing Alec insisted on changing was taking the padlock from her old bedroom, opening it up and clearing it out. Her sparse belongings were sent off to a thrift shop and the room given a fresh coat of paint and some new bedroom furnishings. But even with the drastically altered appearance, nobody set foot in there. Alec couldn't say if it was purely psychological or not on their part. Rather like feeling his parents' presence in the house after their passing, you could feel Amy's anger, hurt and animosity in her room. They all could feel it. Darkness in the room, something cold and unwelcome. Nobody went into that room. Nobody slept in it. If Ben came down for a visit, he always slept on the sofa.

Venturing downstairs to the kitchen, he spotted Tessie sitting at the table with her coffee, a newspaper open before her. How often had he come downstairs to see his Mum and Dad doing the same thing? Mum had always been the early riser of the family. She had always claimed it was so she could get some time to herself before worrying about everyone else. Still smiling, he grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured himself some coffee. “An'thin' good in the paper t'day?” he asked, taking a seat at the head of the table. Why did this still not feel right? His Dad had always taken a seat at the head of the table, Mum at his right side, just as Tessie was at the moment. “It's been slow news the last week or so,” he added, taking a drink from the mug.

“Nothin' of interest, really,” Tessie murmured absently, not looking up from the paper. “Few sales at the market, some government bullshit.....not much else.” Her eyes surfaced from the paper, a small smile on her face. One would never know she was nearing fifty. Not a single grey hair or fine lines. Maybe he was just extremely biased? Maybe his Dad saw the same with Mum even when her aging became obvious to others? But holy hell, Tessie could pass for a woman ten years her junior easily, as far as he could tell. It made him wonder if she saw the same with him? There was no denying he looked his age. Going grey since his thirties, he only had a few streaks of brown left in his hair and his beard was a dark steel grey. He also was dealing with an expanding paunch that now rested just above his belt. He almost laughed aloud at the memory of his Dad examining his aging physique in the master bathroom's mirror. The same damned paunch, right? And Alec had started the same routine without even realizing it. Staring at his reflection in the full length mirror, wondering if others noticed the paunch or if it was all in his head.

Flashing a smile in return, he lit a cigarette and pulled a section of the newspaper towards him. For some reason or another, Amy’s face kept surfacing in his mind. He wasn't sure why he was thinking about Amy today. It seemed like there was something important to this, but he couldn't figure it out. Had there been something he'd forgotten when he went to visit her a few months back? He was pretty sure he'd taken care of all that had needed to be taken care of in regards to her. A lawyer could have easily done this, but Alec had felt it was best it come from him and not some cold legal official. Alec and Alec alone had been the one to tell her that both their parents were gone and to discuss what documents had been found by the solicitor handling their father's final affairs. Neither Alec or the solicitor had any idea what was in the documents. He hadn't read them and the solicitor hadn't opened them either. The items were sealed in a few envelopes with his father's recognizable scrawl _For Amy._ The more official paperwork had merely stated that the trust fund their Mum had set up for her was to continue but the rest of the stuff from their Dad was sealed and with strict orders that Amy and Amy alone was the only one to open them. He'd waited several months before finally deciding to see her. Most of his hesitation had been because he hadn't been sure if the trip and seeing her face to face would really be worth it. The last time he'd laid eyes on her was shortly after Mum had passed and she had been in no condition to talk let alone hear that one of their parents had died. When he'd finally taken their father's documents to her, she'd appeared more coherent and happily chatted with him. One would have thought they were chatting over coffee, that was how casual it had been. Never would have guessed this visit was taking place in a cold and sterile psychiatric hospital.

This happiness had vanished entirely when he'd finally explained the reason for his visit. Her smile had collapsed, dark eyes glassy with building tears and the hand that took the documents he'd set out on the table had trembled. Neither of them spoke as she'd gone through the paperwork, her lip trembling as tears spilled over her cheeks. Alec had felt like such a bastard in those moments, realizing that he'd caught her in a good frame of mind. Given the actions that had led to her permanent institutionalization and the darker family secrets that had surfaced, it had been surreal sitting there while listening to her talk about her walks outside or some cute staffer who worked the night crew. But the moment he'd spoken about the reason for his visit, the moment when he'd finally said aloud to her that both their parents had passed on, he could see the shift in her expression and almost hear the anguish in the single shaky sigh that escaped from her. He'd reached out, touching her hand gently as she opened up the envelope to read through the paperwork their father had left for her. He hadn't been entirely sure why he'd reached out to grasp her hand. Part of him had recoiled at the gesture while another part had insisted it was necessary. This was his baby sister, after all. He may not have remembered much of their childhood, but goddamn it, he wasn't going to completely treat her like a fucking leper.

Alec frowned into his coffee. That was  _exactly_ what they'd done. The courts had charged her, committed her and they'd all gone about their lives as if she never existed. Locked away and abandoned in a  psychiatric hospital for the criminally insane. The moment she'd been locked away had been the moment she'd ceased to exist in their family. Alec knew it had more to do with what had happened in this very house than the actual crimes she'd been sentenced for, even if their late parents' actions had contradicted everything he'd been taught growing up. How could they preach about family being everything and protecting your own only to turn around and shun someone who was in dire need of help? He wasn't sure why this all bothered him as much as it did. Amy was a fucking nutter. She'd violated their family and everything it had stood for. The only proof of what had taken place now dead and gone, their father never knowing of its existence. Their mother had made sure of that. As the years passed, Alec began to understand just why she'd never wanted Dad to know what Amy's actions had produced. Amy had damaged their father in the worst possible way. He was never the same again after all of that. Being kept in the dark most likely spared their father what little remained of his sanity. 

Alec paused mid-sip on his coffee. Christ, they couldn't even give it a gender. They never saw it as male or female. Never saw it as something worth giving an identity to. Was that cruel of them? Was it cruel of their Mum to admit she wouldn't have been able to accept having it in her home? No doubt some would say she had been a cold-hearted bitch for turning it away. But Mum's primary objective had been to protect Dad and Alec couldn't fault her for that. He even sometimes wondered how would he have handled it if his Mum had revealed it sooner. Would he have been able to look past its origins and take it in for its short little life? He'd seen photos of the infant during his last visit to Amy. The doctor in charge of her case had them on file. Alec had been surprised at how unremarkable the baby was. He hadn't exactly been sure of what to expect when he first looked through the photos, but the plump smiling infant with shocks of black hair had not been it. There'd been nothing visibly noticeable about the baby that gave away what it had been born from. Alec couldn't even say who exactly she'd looked like. The black hair and dark eyes were not exactly unique traits. It occurred to him that if he'd known about little Lizzie's existence when it was all happening, he probably wouldn't have hesitated to take her in. Even if he'd had to lie to his parents' faces about who she was, he'd have done it without a second thought. Even if he had to claim _he_ was the father just to make sure they never ever figured it out. It would have been the right thing to do, regardless of what everyone else felt on the matter.

His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of Tessie's voice. “Earth t' Alec....Hello out there.....” She had set the paper down, the smile on her face slowly melting to a frown. “Is ever'thin' alright?”

Alec merely nodded, draining what remained in his mug. “Just a lot on m' mind this mornin',” he whispered, rising from the chair. “Still not quite sure the whole Amy thin' was handled right. The one time I catch her on a good day an' I unloaded all that shit on her.”

Tessie uttered a sigh, shaking her head. “Look, I know you were never on board with how your parents handled the situation with your sister...but it is what it is. This was how they chose t' handle it, Alec. Whether good or bad, that's between them an' whatever deities exist beyond our realm.”

“She's sick,” he muttered. “And Dad recognized this long before she did what she did.” He grabbed the carafe from the coffee maker, pouring a fresh cup before reclaiming his seat. “He knew somethin' was wrong with her. An' he somehow covered it up. Hid it from ever' one. Mum was sick, too, y'know. Sick like Amy. Only she had control over it, knew what she needed t' keep it in check...”

Tessie's brow furrowed. “Alec, you can't possibly be comparin' your Mum's problems with Amy's. It's apples an' oranges!” She looked as outraged as he assumed she would. But it was something to consider, yeah? She shook her head, lighting her own cigarette finally. “Your Mum was sick, yes, but she was nothin' at all like how Amy turned out.”

“You dun' know the thins' I know, Tess,” Alec said flatly. “Mum an' Amy were two sides of the same coin. Mum just had a better grip on thins'. Amy just let it run wild.” He took a breath, easing back into the hard kitchen chair. He'd been giving it a lot of thought. He'd poured over the medical records he'd found in the attic and even some of her care files. Mum was just as broken as Amy was. How could Tessie deny it? She knew Mum's history and had even been witness to the darker moments when Mum had lost control. Of course, Tess had no idea just what his parents had done so many decades ago. She had no idea of just what his Mum had been capable of. Amy had turned out no different when you got right down to it. Dad had been straight to the point and blunt about it. How'd he put it?  _She was every dark an' nasty part your Mum an' I harbored within ourselves. Amy was our worst halves_ .

The thing that had jarred Alec the most was finding out she'd approached their Dad on several other occasions through the years, only to have her advanced rebuffed. Mum had never known, Dad keeping the monster in their midst hidden for so long. He knew she was becoming more and more dangerous, knew that she'd most likely succeed at some point, but did nothing nor told a soul. He’d discovered this through journals his father had kept. A stack of six plain notebooks tucked away in his father’s study. Found beneath a false bottom in a drawer when Alec had been going through all their belongings to box away. As much as it pained Alec to read such private things, he'd sat at the desk and read every single one of them. A way to see how his Dad saw everything around him, viewing his most private thoughts and life events. It had been difficult reading, Alec sometimes having to take a breather. The pain and anger towards the woman who'd hurt Alec was evident in some of the entries chronicling when his disabilities had surfaced. The confusion and bitterness over some of the marital issues he and Mum had faced on and off through the years. Fear over Amy’s paternity and whether or not he’d be able to love her if it had come out she was not his. Elation when it became obvious she was no doubt his child. Alec had known a man who hid his emotions with off color humor and sarcasm. The journals had revealed a man who felt small and weak in his lowest moments and the illusion of strength in the face of a family that appeared to be falling apart at the seams and a daughter who grew stronger and more aggressive as she aged while he himself became more vulnerable and no longer able to wield authority over her. Those journals were now locked away in a lock-box only Alec knew the combination to. Tessie never asked about them, though she was aware of their existence. She knew they were his Dad's private things and felt it was best kept between Alec and whatever gods existed.

“I wish thins' had played out differently.” He glanced over at Tessie, who was rising from the table. “Sometimes I wish I'd known about what was happening so maybe I could have stopped it before it happened. Sometimes I wish she'd be held accountable for what she'd done...”

Tessie gave his shoulder a squeeze, pressing her head to his. “Is that how you want the world t' remember your Dad, Alec? As a feeble old man who couldn't fight off his own daughter? I think it's bad 'nough that the public mostly remembers him as the father of a killer an' not all that he'd accomplished in his life.” A noise outside alerted them to Lexi's coming presence. Tessie sighed as she leaned forward, planting a small kiss on his cheek. “Keep in mind what this woulda done t' your father had the public found out. I dun' want his memory an'more tarnished than it a'ready is. He was a good man, regardless of his flaws. He was a good father an' husband. He tried his best with both of you. You might not remember, but I do.”

Sighing, Alec slowly got to his feet. He had a busy day ahead of him. Mostly mundane tasks around the house. They'd been slowly working on the old cottage, fixing all the little things his parents had neglected to fix through the years. Dad had actually done a great deal of work through the house when they'd first bought it, but the house had fallen to complete neglect over the last fifteen or so years. The old man had always been too cheap to hire people to help maintain it, relying mostly on Ben and sometimes even Alec to work on the things when he couldn't do it anymore. It still hadn't been enough. The roof needed patching, some rooms needed to be gutted and re-done with new drywall, the downstairs toilet needed to be looked at and the back patio needed a power wash badly. So many little things just to ensure the house didn't collapse within itself. Alec had a laundry list of projects and tasks to go through. Most he could easily do on his own or with Ben's help, but several things required breaking Niccals tradition of being a cheap arse and actually hiring professionals.

**********************

When the power washer came to life, Alec turned the nozzle towards the tiled patio. He watched as the jet spray tore away the moss and filth that had collected in the grout. He sometimes wondered where the hell the days went. Just the other day, he'd been mulling over doing this and had been quite sure he'd already done it. But seeing the neglected and filthy patio had told him otherwise. Trying not to give it too much though, he adjusted the nozzle and continued cleaning. Next on the agenda was to scrub down and hose off the aging patio furniture, which had been piled against the side of the house and collecting grime. It was a pleasant enough day with blue skies, sun and mild temperatures. Nice enough for him to plot out various other projects through the property. He paused mid spray, the water jetting off into the lawn. It felt like he'd just been doing all of this. He'd been quite sure that just the other day he'd been tossing around cleaning the patio, the furniture and whatever else needed to be done through the property. And he was positive that he'd started some of it. Yet the patio and the rest of the yard told a much different story.

Christ, he could even remember fighting with the power washer to get it started up. Blasted thing was as ancient as the house and had required a few well placed kicks before it roared to life. But here it was, the next day and he was struggling with it again and staring at it when it finally started up, unable to shake the feeling of deja vu. _Had_ he been out here already? It sure as hell felt like it. He could even hear Tessie vacuuming – _again_. Christ, was he starting to lose his fucking mind? He could swear he'd already been out here doing all of this. It also occurred to him that he couldn't even really recall just what had happened the rest of the day. He knew he'd discussed working on things and was pretty sure he'd started some projects, but anything after that drifted to oblivion. He couldn't remember anything past mid-afternoon. Had no memory of going to bed, no memory of anything. He couldn't even remember just when he awoke or what happened in the hours leading up to this moment.

Holy shit, was it early Alzheimer's? What happened to the last twenty four hours and where the hell were Ben and Lexi? He hadn't seen hide nor hair of either of them and couldn't even remember the last time he'd clapped eyes on them. Ben's shoes and jacket were still hanging in the foyer. Alec knew he'd seen them there..... _or had he_?

Alec shut down the power washer completely and tossed the nozzle down. Perhaps he needed to take a moment to relax a bit. Forget all the random projects and chores, just crack a lager and plant his arse on the sofa in front of the telly. Maybe these last several months had finally taken their toll on him. After all, he'd lost his parents not too long ago and had a mile long list of things the house needed. Was it any wonder he was so addle-brained at the moment?

He flopped into one of the unused patio chairs and lit a cigarette. Some part of him nagged at finishing the power washing, noting just how wonderfully clean the tiles were where he'd started. He could easily bring this house back to its former glory. There'd even been talk of remodeling the aging kitchen, something his parents had considered at one point. At least until his Dad had seen the estimates on the total costs. Alec laughed to himself, watching as the smoke lazily drifted skyward. While he couldn't really remember the situation clearly, he'd heard about it through his parents. It had become a passing joke between them for years. Murdoc was a phenomenal cheap-arse and had nearly had a stroke when the contractors had shown him the numbers for the estimates. He'd loudly declared that Hailey would be stuck using the aging appliances and kitchen until they figured out how to do it themselves. Later that same week, a pipe had burst and flooded the kitchen. Dad had still refused to consider remodeling and updating what needed to be updated. He had fixed the pipe and cleaned up the water, but wouldn't even entertain the idea of paying someone to give the kitchen the nice modern touches that Mum had so badly wanted.

He took in the wretched state of the yard, frowning at the overgrowth and tall grass. Dad had really allowed the place to go to shit. The fire-pit was hidden by shrubs and weeds, the path he, Amy and his Dad had created in the green belt was now overgrown and out of sight, the clearing at the far corner of the property line was now full of growth. Alec stared at the overgrown area that had once been the clearing. He knew what was buried there. Even Tessie knew what was buried there. They never spoke of it. What could be said about it at this point? It had been fifty years, right? For all Alec knew, there was nothing left buried beneath the dirt. Scraps of hair and bone, perhaps? He frowned, flicking his cigarette into the damp grass. He understood their motives behind their crime. Even the private investigator his mother had dispatched just a few years later. Protect the family at all costs. Yet part of him felt angry. Angry that they'd never told him all those years. Living with disabilities he knew he'd not been born with but not knowing just how they'd come to be. His parents had balked at telling him, brushing his questions aside for years. They'd only finally confessed when he'd backed them into a corner about it. When the memories had come flooding back. The townhouse in Seattle. The cold basement beneath the shop at the waterfront. The pain. The woman with the white hair and dazzling blue eyes. Only once confronted did they finally admit to what they'd done – unleashing their vengeance on the woman and her accomplice. Admitted to tying up the lose end with the private investigator hired by the dead woman's former partner. Alec wondered about that man. He'd be well into his eighties now, assuming he was around Mum's age. How would he react if a random phone call came in from some vague part of his past? What could Alec say to the man? _Hey mate, sorry this call is fifty years too late, but you should know the bird you were shaggin' back in the day is dead an' buried in her best mate's back yard!_

Rising from the lawn chair, he pulled the power washer towards the house and wrapped the hose and nozzle. He hated feeling this disorientated. He was beyond certain he'd come out here the day before and power-washed the tiled patio and even had gotten some contraption from the city to handle a chunk of the overgrowth in the yard. The more he thought about it, the more he knew he did it. So why weren't his labors evident? And where was the strange lawn thing he'd rented? Brow still furrowed, he ventured into the house and slumped down onto the sofa. He could still hear Tessie cleaning upstairs. If he was gauging the sound of the vacuum correctly, she was in the master bedroom. He remained on the sofa, mulling over the plethora of chores still ahead of him and wondering just how it all still looked as it did when he was very certain he'd taken care of so many things just the other day.

Settling down and getting comfortable, he struggled to shove aside the troubled thoughts. There was so much to do and he was overwhelmed. That had to be it. Never mind that he could remember even calling the bloke at the equipment rental joint and arranging to get the brush mower seeing that the ancient lawn mower in the garage would never be able to handle the work ahead. He was simply overwhelmed and over-worked and probably had done something else while thinking about the patio and the back property. Though he could recall clearly the morning's conversation between him and Tess and could recall dragging the power washer to the patio, maybe he'd imagined it all. His Mum complained about similar things often enough through the years she'd been alive. One of those people who think about something enough to think they'd completed the task only to find out it still lay ahead of them. She'd jokingly talked about past due car payments and personal loans she'd been so certain she'd paid only to find out she hadn't touched them. Christ, he'd never had anything like that happen in all his years. Perhaps it was some bizarre genetic personality quirk? No, it couldn't be that. He could remember picking up the brush mower and bringing it back to the house. He could remember kicking the pressure washer a few times just to get it to start. He could remember spraying the tiles down. He knew he'd just done it all the day before. Yet somehow he was back on the patio cleaning it off with no fucking idea where the rest of yesterday had gone or even the beginning of the next day. He'd already done these things! From above, the vacuum shut down and could hear foot-steps on the stair and Tessie's soft sigh. “Alec, love, did you contact the machine rental place regarding the brush mower for the back yard?”


	2. Part II

Tessie chattered on from her place at the coffee maker, oblivious to Alec's confused expression as he stared at his coffee. _“Your Mum was sick, yes, but she was nothin' at all like how Amy turned out.”_ Her words seemed to echo within the confines of his head. Part of him nagged that he'd just had this conversation and he was going to add something along the lines of “You dun' know the thins' I know, Tess.” before finishing his coffee and getting ready to begin his day. He said nothing though, still staring dully at his coffee mug. Well, his Dad's coffee mug. It was a battered and ancient thing, right? Something his Mum and Tessie's Mum had bought for him for his birthday years and years and years ago. The black mug with the white writing. _Fuck me, I'm famous!_ Most of the white lettering had since faded out, but you could just make out the faint outlines of _Fuck me._ He raised his eyes from his mug, watching as Tessie refilled her own coffee into an equally battered and chipped yellow mug. Surely she knew the mugs they used had been the main mugs his parents had used for years? The old yellow mug had been his Mum's. She loved the color yellow. He'd personally found it a ghastly color as did his Dad, but Mum loved yellow. Always said it was bright and cheery even when there was darkness.

He'd awoken suddenly that morning, shaken awake by a nightmare he couldn't remember no matter how much he tried. And as the entire morning played out before him, the conversation between him and Tessie ringing alarms within his head. They'd just had this conversation, right? He'd visited Amy not long ago and their morning conversation had been centered around her and Mum. Rising from the table with a groan, he raked his hand through his hair. “Sometimes I wish she'd be held accountable for what she'd done...” She made a noise, sucking her breath in through her teeth. The warning was coming, he could sense it. Taking advantage of her pause, he flashed a sad smile. “But I dun' want Dad's memory tarnished an'more than it a'ready is...” She made another noise, staring at him with wide eyes. After another pause, she gave a curt nod and resumed cleaning up the counters around the coffee-maker. Alec opened his mouth to say more but abruptly closed it. He knew how the rest of the conversation would go.

The morning soon passed and Alec busied himself with little tasks around the house. Make the day a little different. That was one way to keep himself in check. And though Tessie occasionally nagged at him about calling the equipment rental place and cleaning the back property, he ignored her and went about finding random things in the house. That wonky pipe in the second bathroom upstairs? Well, he'd just go and have a looky-loo at it and see if he could muster his inner plumber. Foyer had a creaky board? He'd just have to buckle down and give it the old college try. Never too old to learn new shit, yeah? He refused to allow this yard work business mess with his head. Though the proof was there in his face that he hadn't started the work in the back property, he _knew_ he had. Christ, he'd damned near bruised his foot kicking the bloody power washer!

Humming to himself, he rounded up some tools from the detached garage and mulled over where to start. The downstairs toilet had been acting up. Maybe go downstairs to the basement apartment and check it out? He hauled the bag of tools through the house to the basement door and swung it open, taking the steps carefully. The toilet had been on his list for months but he'd had so much on his plate at the time that he'd just shut the water supply off and marked it on his to-do list amongst every other fucking thing the house was going to need. The larger issue being that they'd moved a lot of the original house furniture to the basement and this made getting to the little bathroom a bit of a chore. He weaved through where he could, tossing the tool bag across what he thought might have been a dresser from his parents' old room and slowly climbed over the large piece of wood furniture. He grabbed the tool bag once on the other side and then squeezed between the upright king sized mattress and the old lounge sofa, which was also propped onto its side to allow more room. Part of him wondered if a small yard sale was in order or perhaps just simply donate it all. Seemed morbid to still have the sofa his Mum died on and the bed his Dad had died on. The furniture from the master bedroom as well as whatever they didn't have room to keep had been shoved into the narrow living space downstairs. Clean it up and toss it up for sale. Slap it onto Craigslist or whatever. _Bedroom set of the world famous Murdoc Niccals! Great buy! Own the bed frame of the very bed where he shagged the shit out of his wife for forty years! Added bonus – he died on this bed! Use the dresser that once held his infamous thongs!_ He laughed at his bad joke, shaking his head. Tessie would kick his arse if she found out he'd done something like that. But how else would they expect a sale of all this shit down here? Take advantage of the aging Gorillaz fans that were still alive out there. Appeal to the collectors who’d been hounding him for months. Probably could make a killing off the bedroom furniture alone!

He dropped the bag by the toilet, chuckling to himself at his horrible joke. He hunkered down by the toilet and rolled onto his back to get a better view of the narrow feed pipe that ran from the water connection to the bottom of the toilet tank. There was some corrosion that had led to a small leak that no doubt would have turned into a massive problem if he'd neglected it any longer. Busying himself with the connecting piece, he kept a mental note to himself to remember to check the inner workings inside the tank itself since the noises and infrequent running had been what caught their attention to begin with. Above him, he could hear foot-steps and faint voices, but nothing that really snagged his attention. Tessie was in the kitchen last he'd checked and she could very well be on the phone with her own Mum. She'd mentioned calling her, right? He remained curled on his back and wedged between the toilet and the small shower stall, working on disconnecting the feed pipe. Though he'd hoped it would simply need some new fittings, upon disconnecting the piece from the tank, he dully noted that the whole thing was corroded beyond repair and some parts seemed to be barely holding on. “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. Looks like they would be shopping for a whole new toilet.

_Please....I'll leave you alone....I'll do whatever you ask._

The voice had no direction but he picked it up as if they were right next to him. He scrambled out from beneath the toilet, looking around the narrow bathroom. He had heard that right? A woman's voice, pleading. He stared through the door of the bathroom and at the cluttered lounge and kitchen area. The furniture was nothing but dark shadows blocking out what little light could come in through the narrow windows. Though it was faint, barely heard and easily dismissed if he hadn't been paying attention, he could hear whimpers and what sounded like a woman sobbing. He perked his ears, straining to listen to the foreign noises that seemed to be echoing through the narrow basement apartment. He was definitely hearing someone whimpering and crying. Just faint enough to catch. Pushing himself to his feet, he set the tools down and continued to listen. It was fading out now, becoming more and more distant before finally fading out completely. Alec stood there, a strange sensation rippling up his spine. Suddenly, he wanted out of there. The toilet could fucking wait. He muttered under his breath as he gathered the tools back into the old gym bag. He wasn't one to believe that ghosty rubbish, but what explanation could he provide for what he'd just heard? As he gathered what remained of the tools, he froze. The air felt different. And the normally stale smell associated with the basement was gone, replaced by something that made the hairs on his arm stand on end. He could smell blood. He could smell sweat. He could almost smell fear. Uttering a gasp, he abandoned the tool bag and rushed up the stairs. “Fuck this,” he panted as he flung open the door and stumbled into the sitting room.

There was nobody else there and part of him was grateful they hadn't seen his rushed departure from the downstairs. He scrubbed his hands across his bearded face, half gasping and half laughing. Letting his imagination run away with him, yeah? He was well aware of what had happened in that basement decades before it had been remodeled. What struck him as odd was the fact that he'd slept in that basement apartment for nearly a year and Nina had lived in it for several years and he certainly couldn't recall any strange occurrences during his time in the small unit. Nina never mentioned anything and neither had Ben. Clearly none of them had dealt with any weird happenings down there. So what the hell had just happened down there? Was it because he knew now when back then he didn't? He'd been none-the-fucking-wiser when he'd been living in that thing with Ben. But he and Tess had slept in it for a few weeks after his Dad passed before they finally moved themselves into the main house. By then, he'd certainly known what had happened and nothing then either!

“Okay, okay,” he breathed as he turned towards the fridge and opened it up. “The house is old. A lot of weird shit has happened here.” He pulled a beer out and shut the door, leaning against the appliance with a sigh. “I have a lot on my fuckin' plate right now an' I'm simply overwhelmed.” Uncapping his beer, he flung the cap towards the rubbish can, almost groaning when it ricocheted off the rim and bounced along the floor. “But I'm not goin' back down there an'time soon.”

Tessie emerged from upstairs, carrying the vacuum. “What was that?” He turned to look at her as she set the vacuum aside. She frowned, taking in his frightened expression. “Ever'thin' a'right with you, Alec?”

“Err, yeah,” he said quickly, flashing a broad and toothy smile. “Ever'thin' is peachy. Just have 'nough shit t' do here till fuckin' doomsday is all.” The last remark had come out harsher than he intended. Catching a glimpse of Tessie's hurt expression, he sighed loudly and flashed another smile. “Just a bit overwhelmed, love. Nothin' more.”

“We could a'ways hire someone,” she whispered softly, smoothing some of his hair back. “You dun' have t' do this all on your own. It's wonderful that you're tryin' t' channel your inner plumber an' carpenter, but all I see is you channelin' your Dad. An' unless you forgot, your Dad was the cheapest bastard in all of England. Pay the money an' hire someone.”

She was gone from him, all that remained being the faint scent of her shower spray. He sighed again, looking around the empty kitchen. She was right. A lot of the little things he could do himself, but there were a lot of other things that certainly would require a professional contractor. The roof, the upstairs bathroom and even his father’s study. The desk was still in there along with a few other things he needed to go through. Alec had kept his father’s vast collection of guitars. Some had been restored to their former glory while others were still in various states of repair. This had become his Dad's hobby during his final years – reconstructing guitars and occasionally playing them when he could. Finished ones were lined up in special racks on the wall in the old study. Alec actually loved how it looked having some of them hanging from special brackets, but the admiration had been short lived once he had noticed areas where there was some moisture in the walls. Of course another issue would come up, right? Fucking house was as old as the hills. He didn't know enough about carpentry to even attempt this room and it had simply joined the growing list of things he'd need to hire a professional for. As for when that would happen....well, he hadn't gotten to that point yet. Given the location of the damp spots, he had a leaky pipe somewhere or water getting into the walls at some point. Another headache on a growing list of headaches.

Christ, he was some kind of man, right? Couldn't even repair a bloody toilet without getting spooked by the old house. What could he do? General car maintenance was probably the only thing he was any kind of good at. And even that depended on whether or not he was having a good day with his hands. The tremor had never gone away, it had only become more manageable, which he reasoned was well enough. But while most men could do the work around the house as it was needed, he was confined to smaller projects he could manage and hiring people to do the more labor intensive work. Ben had offered to help, pointing out that he had a little bit of experience in slapping up new drywall thanks to a summer job he'd taken during Uni. Though Alec had initially refused because he thought he could do it, he was starting to wonder if he should take Ben up on the offer. Free labor – best kind there was, yeah?

_Oh god, I am turning into my fucking Dad!_

Shuddering violently, he groaned and drained half his beer. Now was not the time to come apart at the seams over random similarities between him and his father. There was a lot ahead of him and he needed to prepare. He definitely would need a hand if he went down to the basement unit again, though. No way in hell was he going to work down there alone. There was probably a logical explanation for what he'd experienced but at that moment he couldn't quite find it. How do you explain hearing someone crying and pleading for their life in a room that had become a glorified storage unit? How do you explain the change in the air down there? It had gone from that stale smell that screamed long term vacancy to suddenly thick and heavy with the scent of fear and death. There was no explanation for that – or was there? Was it possible that he was having some peculiar guilty feelings over what his parents had done? Or were the ghosts of the house finally screaming for release now that his parents had moved on to where-ever it was spirits like theirs went? He wasn't one to give stock to this kind of rubbish, never really believed in any of it, but how could he deny what had happened in the basement? He'd heard someone's voice sobbing and pleading for their life and yet he'd been the only one down there. He drained his beer and tossed the bottle into the recycle container by the rubbish bin. No time to think on it. He wasn't about to think on it. Just focus on the projects ahead that he could do. Ring Ben and see if he could lend a hand.

**********************

Ripping away the damp dry-wall and tossing it aside, Alec frowned at the moisture he could see gleaming off the insulation. Tucked away between the insulation was the pipe. And even where Alec stood, he could see the water gleaming off of it. He craned his neck, peering up the pipe and into darkness. Great, just great. Another major repair revealed, just as he expected. This pipe ran up to the master suite's bathroom. He took a step back and dropped into his Dad's old office chair. The pipe could be leaking from anywhere. He could end up tearing up various spots in the walls and floors just trying to locate where the leak was coming from. This was getting to be a bit much, yeah? This house was just falling apart. Loads of fun thinking he could do it to save a few quid. But now faced with the tasks at hand, it made him realize just how little he knew about this kind of shit and how he'd have little choice but to contact someone to do it. He'd been quite sure he'd contacted Ben, but had yet to hear back from the lad. Just what the hell did the boy do up north that kept him unable to talk with his old man? It felt like they hadn't been in touch in days.

Once again, the day had started out identical to the last and Alec's uneasiness had soared to new levels. The same strange conversation over coffee and talk of cleaning up the back property. With the nagging whispers in the back of his head that insisted he'd already attempted to do all of this and something was amiss, he deviated from the yard work plans and decided to tackle that damp wall in the small studio. He'd hoped that it was simply some outdoor moisture. Perhaps a crack or other opening on the exterior wall of the house that was allowing water in. No such luck, obviously, seeing that he was now staring at what was clearly a leaky pipe. And this pipe ran straight up to the master bedroom's bathroom. If he was guessing correctly, the pipe was beneath where the tub should be. He groaned inwardly and ran his fingers along the pipe, staring at the water droplets that ran across his knuckles. “Fuckin' Murphy's Law, I swear,” he whispered hoarsely as he wiped his hand on his jeans. No point in even attempting to try. Just get in touch with a plumber and get someone here. If it had been in an obvious spot, he might have attempted to do it himself but it was trickling down the sides and looking up revealed only darkness and no visible source.

He exited the room and veered through the sitting room towards the kitchen. “Tessie, we need t' call a repair bloke.” When only silence greeted him, he paused and looking around. Tessie had just been in the kitchen before he'd gone to the study. He hadn't heard her leave or walk up the stairs. “Tess?” Another stretch of silence. “Contessa?” He fully expected her to come flying down the stairs almost screeching at him about using her full name. She hated the name but never had the heart to get it changed. She never explained why and Alec could only theorize. Either way, use of her full name was taboo. So she should have been coming at him like a wild hell-beast by now but only more silence greeted him. With absolutely no sign of Tessie. “Err...Tess?”

He turned to look upstairs, seeing only the landing and the darkness that would lead to the bedrooms. Dark and silent upstairs. So where the hell had she gone off to if she wasn't in the house? Had she taken it upon herself to tackle the back yard since he had been so insistent on avoiding it? He muttered under his breath as he climbed the stairs to the first landing. If he had to wager something, he'd guess she wasn't upstairs. Walking back to the kitchen, he stopped at the table, staring at the magazine laying next to his mug of cold coffee. It wasn't a magazine either of them read and the celebrity gracing the cover was not someone he recognized. One of Lexi's perhaps? She adored these trashy entertainment rags, right? So how did it get down here? She rarely brought her reading material to the kitchen table, preferring to hide in her room and giggle with her mates about some hot young celeb they all fancied. He reached out and traced his fingers across the glossy cover. Whomever the person was on the cover, she wasn't bad on the eyes. A lovely and wispy little blond thing who couldn't have been much older than Lexi.

He raised his eyes from the table, looking out the kitchen window at the sunny front yard with the worn out fence that was also in dire need to repair. More tasks to keep him occupied, yeah? Just outside his field of vision, he caught movement from the lounge. He turned abruptly, catching a glimpse of a woman passing by through the foyer. Tall, dressed sharply with tightly bound blondish hair. As she passed, he caught a small snippet of words. “Older but well made....”

“How'd you get in here!” Alec demanded, rushing towards the lounge. Once in the lounge, he paused and looked around at the empty room. Okay, he knew he'd seen someone there. He'd even heard her speak! “Who's in here!” he barked loudly, hearing his words echo back at him. How the hell was there an echo in this room? The room was loaded with furnishings and pictures on the walls so there shouldn't have been an echo! Shaking his head, he made a brisk walk towards the French doors and threw them open, only revealing the unkempt back yard. No sign of the strange woman. A low whine escaped from him as he looked frantically around the yard. “I'm losin' me bloody mind,” he whispered, stepping back into the house. He knew he'd seen the woman. She'd literally walked from the table on the wall towards the French doors and had now disappeared. He dragged his hands across his face, groaning aloud. What in the hell was going on here? First the basement and now in the main house?

Sinking down into a chair at the kitchen table, his brow furrowed at the cleared surface. The only things sitting there were their abandoned cups of coffee and the paper they'd been reading. The magazine was gone. He could muster no explanation to what he'd just seen or even how that random magazine had appeared and then disappeared just as suddenly. Was it possible Tess and the kids were in on some big sick joke to fuck with him? He could certainly see Ben doing something like this to get him worked up. Lad may have been thirty years old, but he still enjoyed breaking Alec's balls when he could. And fucking with him in this big house – a house that had seen some shit go down – was something Ben would not have been able to resist if given the chance. But did Ben even know the full history of the home? Did he know what his grandparents had done decades and decades ago? Did he know what lay buried near the edge of the treeline? Alec certainly had never told him and he was sure Tess hadn't either. Did his Mum or Dad tell him before they passed? He couldn’t imagine them telling anyone else seeing that it had been like pulling teeth just to get one of them to confess to Alec himself. But Alec did mention the weird feelings of not being alone in a room when he clearly was and he had made offhand remarks about understanding why his Dad had still felt Mum’s presence even after she’d passed. He’d felt the same once both of them were gone.

Christ, why the hell was he even giving this any thought? He didn't really believe in any of that – not anymore. Death was the end. It was it. So the only other conclusion Alec could come to was that this was some massive and elaborate joke his son had arranged to give him a fright. A bit of a cruel joke when one got right down to it, really but knowing Ben, he was probably focused on the fact that it was an old home that people had died in. And it was merely a fluke that he'd chosen the basement for his first hardy har har. Ben had no idea what had taken place in that room. He'd most likely chosen it because it was dark, cluttered and well, basements gave everyone the creeps right? But what about the mystery woman who'd vanished from view just moments ago? How the hell did you explain that? Unless Ben had located some secret passages in the fucking house, where the hell could the person go? She'd literally passed by him – not even ten feet away – and had vanished once he'd come to the lounge to see.

Rising from the table, Alec grabbed both mugs and emptied them into the sink. He'd bitten off more than he could chew with this place, that's what it was. And there was still a nagging suspicion that Ben was fucking with him – probably got Tess and Lexi in on the joke also. He set the two coffee mugs into the sink and turned back to the table. All clear now, nothing to see. He reclaimed his chair and stared numbly at the table surface. Everything was so fucking weird now. Why did it seem like the mornings played out the same way every time? And how was it that he'd lose time and even a whole day? One minute he was hanging out and talking with Tess, next minute he was out back working on the patio – never mind that he could have sworn he'd planned to tackle it the day before. Next day, same conversation and onto something different only because he'd decided fuck the yard and attempt to take on some of the smaller tasks through the house. There was also the fact that he couldn't really recall the last time he'd seen Ben. He'd caught a glimpse of Lexi on her way out the door before he'd gathered what he'd needed to tear the walls down in the study, but of Ben, there'd been nothing. And at one point, Alec had been quite certain he'd seen the lad's jacket hanging in the foyer. None of this was making any sense and the more he tried to piece it together, the more believable it became that Ben was behind the scenes orchestrating this colossal mind fuck and having a laugh about it all because he was too much like his grandfather – a mean spirited bastard who got his jollies fucking with you.

*******************

Drilling in the last screw, Alec took a step back and admired his handiwork. The support rack was about as even as it could ever be. Cracking a smile, he set the glossy black bass into the rack and stepped back again. It looked really nice on the wall by the first landing. He wasn't entirely sure what had prompted him to hang it up here, but he was glad he did. Though both he and Tess had agreed they'd do what they could to make the house theirs, he still wanted to ensure his father's accomplishments were visible through-out the home. His Oscar for best musical score still sat on the mantle of the fireplace, various awards Gorillaz had received were also hanging on different walls through the house and finally, photos of the old tosser himself during his years with Gorillaz as well as a few scattered photos of him post Gorillaz when he'd become the hot commodity for his television and film music work.

The black bass had been something Murdoc had been able to hold onto for so long, Alec wasn't even sure just when his Dad had obtained it. While it certainly looked shiny and new at a glance, further examination of the instrument revealed it much older than it looked. The polish was worn in some spots, the strings had just been freshly replaced and the knobs and control switches were well worn and dull. It was entirely possible his Dad had owned it since Gorillaz and if that were the case, the bass was worth a fucking fortune. Christ, if the collector snobs had caught wind of this, they'd be bursting through his door in droves! Bad enough he'd had to deal with their kind right on the heels of his father's passing. Offering large sums of money for some of the guitars, the awards and even some unfinished sample tracks his Dad had made ages ago before he had finally decided it was time to retire. If the black bass on the wall was truly over six decades old and one of the original basses he'd used during his time with Gorillaz, the money his parents had left for them would be a pittance compared to what that old guitar could bring them. Of course he'd never consider selling it. If anyone dared approach him, he'd tell them to fuck right off, just as he'd done with the collector snobs who'd come calling and knocking shortly after the old man had passed.

Alec smiled broadly at how good it looked on the wall above the first landing. Descending the short steps in a quick jog, he made a little dance as he breezed through the kitchen. He was feeling pretty good at the moment. Rather hard not to. Things were slowly coming together. Very slowly perhaps, but still coming together all the same. So what if the day started out the same and so what if there were more important things to worry about, he was going to do whatever the fuck he wanted today. And today had called for hanging the black bass on a wall outside of the study. He grabbed a soda from the fridge and cracked it open, draining half the can in one drink. He pondered over going back to the basement to at least move the furniture around so there'd be a clear path to the bathroom. Not that he wanted to go back down there, but he knew it would make things easier for when he did finally go back down there. It required little mental energy and no tools. Just find space and push things.

The basement apartment looked no different than the last time he'd been down there. Pausing at the foot of the steps, he looked around at the large pieces of furniture. Climb over everything and start from the back, working his way to the steps? That might work. It could be like some real life version of Tetris. This thought made him laugh to himself as he climbed over the smaller tables and other things they'd piled into the room. The recording and mixing equipment wouldn't budge, so that monstrosity was out of the question. He started to busy himself with moving things around, the quiet room soon filling with the sounds of shuffling steps, huffing and wooden feet scraping against the linoleum. It was a bit more difficult than he'd anticipated and found himself stopping more often than he'd wanted to catch his breath and stretch muscles that were not used to this kind of labor.

It didn't take long to get a path cleared from the steps to the little closet sized bathroom. Caught between the old sofa and an armoire, he leaned into the cushions of the sofa, taking a few breaths. The light flickered occasionally, Alec hardly taking notice of it as he moved some more things. He slowly managed to shove the armoire over to a far wall, the sofa joining it a short moment later. When the light flickered again, Alec paused and looked up at the little fancy hanging light that swayed gently where it was, little cracks and pops heard as it flickered more and more, casting the room into darkness and shadows briefly before lighting up again. Alec froze where he was, feeling the atmosphere of the room change. Like a static charge, building up more and more, the hairs on his body suddenly standing on end. He could smell the sweat and blood again. He could smell the fear. The light flickered hard, darkness engulfing the room before slowly lighting back up enough to see but dim enough to cast ugly shadows on everything.

Still partially hidden behind the taller furniture, it took him a moment to realize he was staring at someone sitting in a chair at the center of the clearing he'd just created. The air of the basement was thick with the smell of sweat and blood. The person in the chair was hunkered over, shivering and moaning. Alec slowly stepped away from the clutter of furnishings, taking in the stranger in the chair. White blond hair matted with what he could only assume was blood, the low murmurs coming from the stranger now recognized as words, “Please.......just let me go......” He inched closer, reaching out and touching the shoulder of the stranger, her head rising slowly and revealing a face that might have once been beautiful. One large blue eye staring at him, the other seemingly gone, only raw tissue and blood visible, her mouth sliced at both sides, giving some strange, gruesome mockery of a smile. “I won't tell anyone...” she moaned, blood still oozing from her wounds.

Alec cried out and stumbled away, his rump hitting the sofa and sending him flying over the back and crashing to the floor. The light continued to flicker, the person in the chair still sobbing and pleading for her life. He recognized her now, even if his memory of her was clouded and foggy. White blond hair pink with blood, her mangled face looking around pitifully for someone to save her. For the love of god, was this really happening? He scrambled from the floor, gagging from the heavy scents that filled the basement. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, moving on auto-pilot as he climbed across the sofa to get to the stairs that were just mere yards away. The light started to flicker again, the woman's sobbing growing louder and louder. He could feel the heat from the light as he rushed past it, the room filling with bright light before going completely dark. Alec hit the stairs, scrambling up on all fours, panting as he tried desperately to breathe without gagging. The thick and heavy scents in the air vanished as he reached the top of the stairs, the light finally coming back and revealing an empty room. Alec stopped at the top of the steps, looking down into the brightly lit basement apartment, seeing now only a cleared area that led to the bathroom. Sinking down onto the step, he stared down at the basement with wide eyes. There was no denying that he'd seen something now. Nothing he could think of to convince himself that he hadn't just seen something horrible. He knew who the woman was. That one blue eye bringing back a flood of memories of a monster with blue eyes and white hair. Panting, he pulled his knees up, almost hugging them as he stared at the empty clearing he'd just made. She'd been right there. He'd heard her speak. Seen her mouth move. Could smell her blood and fear in the air. Alec slowly pushed himself to his feet and slipped out of the basement and to the kitchen. What prompted her to reveal herself finally? How did these things work exactly? Damn near sixty years go by and she finally decides to haunt the house? Why not haunt his parents since they were the ones responsible for her demise? Why torment him even after death? Hadn't she done enough to him already?


	3. Part III

“I can't seem t' get 'hold of Ben,” Alec said, the confusion clear in his tone. He'd been trying to reach the young man for what seemed like days. Every time he'd tried to call, he'd get Ben's voice mail. Alec left a few messages, but eventually had started to hang up whenever Ben's voice came on, advising callers that he was away from the phone or busy and to please leave a message. Alec hadn't been sure what to think. Ben generally had always returned his calls, even if it was just for a quick social call. And yet it seemed Ben was now actively avoiding him. Alec wasn't sure whether he should be hurt or annoyed by this. Ben worked up north and was generally busy, but he'd always found time to call and talk with Alec.

“He's a grown man busy with his own life,” Tessie reminded him as she unloaded the dishwasher. “I'm sure he'll call you when he finds the time.” Of course she dismissed his concerns with Ben just as she'd dismissed his concerns with the basement. Though he'd seen shit with his own eyes, she had brushed it off as an over-worked, overwhelmed and over-active imagination. She didn't believe in spirits or hauntings, but what the hell did you call the shit in the basement then? He'd seen Alicia Hunter with his own two eyes – tied down to a chair, battered and cut up worse than a slab of meat. He could still smell the stench of blood and sweat, ingrained into his senses now for what he was sure would be an eternity. But Tessie didn't buy it. It made no sense to her that some spectral form of a long dead person would show themselves to Alec when he'd had no part in what happened to her. Well, he’d been part of the equation, hadn’t he?

And though the morning had started out the same, Alec was too caught up in what he'd experienced in the basement. He didn't even bother mulling over the same fucking conversation about his sister and Mum, or the reminders of the back property work he'd been planning. He'd decided this was simply how life was now and he was old as dirt and losing his mind. And if he was experiencing weird shit from the ghosts of this house, this strange _Groundhog Day_ from hell was the least of his concerns. Any thoughts of this being some elaborate prank were now shoved aside completely. Whatever he'd seen, it had been as real as he and Tess. As real as Lexi. Speaking of which, Lexi was MIA again, though he thought he'd seen her earlier in the day, but he couldn't be so sure. The days ran together and with all the strange shit going on around him, he wasn't sure if it had been hours or days since he'd last clapped his eyes on her.

He attempted to shove these troubled thoughts aside as he ventured to the detached garage. There were stacks upon stacks of boxes through-out the two car garage and his Dad's ancient convertible, which was hidden under a tattered car cover. Alec opened up both garage doors, filling the darkened spaces with as much natural light as he could. Whatever the hell was going on, he wasn't about to give it a free pass by tucking himself away into a darkened garage. The fucking basement was bad enough! With the light pouring into the garage, he could see the car covered up with its cover and surrounded by stacks of boxes. Some were marked, others were not, and Alec realized that he'd have to go through all of this too. Good god, what if he stumbled across the box that held all his parents toys and accessories? He grimaced at the thought as he pulled down a box labeled _Excess Kitchen Shit_ in his Dad's unmistakable scrawl. If he stumbled across the box he feared the most, he'd just toss it aside. Destined for the trash, no other way around it. Why they'd kept all that shit when they hadn't used them in ages mystified him, but his parents had been weird and quirky people. Don't think about where some of those toys had been – just toss the box into the rubbish bin and be done with it.

He went through a few boxes, taking note of some useful appliances they could use in the kitchen. His Mum had been a stellar cook and over the years had acquired a lot of various small food prep appliances. The dehydrator at the bottom of the box had been one of her last major kitchen purchases and the only appliance she'd decided she had no use for. She could cook some mean dishes when she'd had a mind to, but her efforts to dry out fruits and meats had been in vain. She'd ruined several batches before deciding this was something she couldn't do. Tess was good with it, though. And her aging dehydrator had finally given up the ghost not long ago. Well and good he'd found a replacement. Smiling at the find, he set it on what was either the bonnet or the boot of the convertible. He returned his attention to the box, pulling aside some glass storage dishes, some bakeware and a few pans. Christ, how much kitchen shit did his Mum need? And aside from lack of need, why had they been boxed away? Had his Dad done this after Mum had gotten too sick and hurt to even use her kitchen anymore? This seemed like a perfectly logical reason. The last decade of his Mum's life had been spent in pain, her arthritis so bad it had made her hands useless. His Dad had taken over the cooking and other tasks his Mum had normally done.

Another box revealed some of his own childhood toys and books. Unable to resist, he grinned when he pulled out his worn plush puppy and ratted blanket. They smelled musty and aged, the fabric softener his Mum had used to clean them up one last time before boxing them away barely noticeable now. He could catch faint whispers of the fresh scent, but it was fading. Might be best to tuck these into one of those space bag things he'd found in the hallway closet upstairs. Stick them in and vacuum out the air. Try to keep them intact. He'd had them since he was a small child and though his childhood memories were scattered and blurred, he could remember them in various snapshots of his life. He set those into a smaller box and shoved the rest of the toys and books aside.

Most of the other boxes were useless things. Clothing his parents hadn't worn in years, clothing he and Amy hadn't worn since they were children, more toys and some of Amy's own childhood belongings. Excess linens in one box, his Mum's numerous Linkin Park CD's in another, some vinyl records that could have been his Dads or his Mum's. Aside from a few groups, they'd had pretty similar tastes in music, so hard to say who the _Pink Floyd_ albums had belonged to. Another box held some nick nack things that his Mum probably bought during their various travels over the years. The box after that revealed a treasure trove of pictures and collectibles. Pictures of his Mum standing in a lush and beautiful cobblestone courtyard, pictures of his Dad napping with a very small baby Alec dozing on his shoulder, the same beautiful courtyard surrounding them. Alec dropped to his rump and went through the pictures. There were also pictures of Stu and Noodle, some in the courtyard and others in what appeared to be small flats. Alec laughed softly as he sifted through the snaps. They'd planted themselves in Paris just before he'd been born, right? His birth certificate was in French. He'd never actually seen any pictures of their time in Paris. He had no memory of it because they'd left before he was two.

He gathered the photos and other trinkets together and lifted the box into his arms. He could find places for some of this and he was certain he'd found a box of empty picture frames in the hall closet upstairs. Okay, so this box could come to the house, the rest he'd either dispose of or perhaps talk with Tess about having a yard sale of some kind. They could even get the bigger stuff out of the basement and toss tat onto the front lawn with some for sale signs also. He carried the box across the gravel drive and down the narrow paved walk-way to the front step. Still holding the box, he fumbled for a free hand. He grabbed the knob and turned, frowning when it stopped short at a half turn. Christ, had he locked himself out? He turned the knob the other way, cursing softly when it froze half through the turn. “Oi, Tess, get the door, love!” he hollered, taking a step back.

He could hear noises from within the house, but they were muffled and he found himself straining to listen. Was that her running upstairs? He rattle the knob again, staring up at the second floor windows. “Oi, Tess!” More noises from within the house, something that sounded like a short cry and then thunderous crashing, something big falling down the stairs following by more sounds of chaos and screams. “Tess!” he screamed, dropping the box to the ground and slamming his shoulder against the door, still turning and yanking on the doorknob. He released the knob and jogged around to the back of the house, bursting through the French doors. The lounge was vacant and silent and Alec stepped through carefully, ears pricked as he listened. There were no noises now, only vast silence. He walked through the kitchen, finding it clean and as empty as the lounge. “Tess, you a'right?” he said loudly, unsure of the silence that greeted him. Standing at the entryway between the kitchen and sitting room, he noticed something amiss on the steps. He climbed up the stairs, staring at what remained of the black bass. Shattered, broken into pieces and only hanging together by a couple of strings. Alec knelt down and examined the destroyed guitar. The body was busted clean in half, slivers of wood all around him. His eyes fell to the portion that had been a beautiful lacquered ivory white, dully noting the smears of red.

From upstairs, Tess emerged as she rushed down the stairs. “Oh my god, Alec, what happened?”

He stared at her now with wide eyes. “You didn't hear any of that?” he asked hoarsley, picking up the broken bass. “It sounded like a herd of elephants stampedin' down the hall an' then crashin'. You were upstairs this whole time an' never heard an'thin'?”

Tessie shook her head, frowning at the busted guitar. “No, I was upstairs makin' the bed. You were out in the garage.” She took in his confused expression. “I swear, I never heard a thin', Alec.” She helped him gather up the broken pieces, both of them moving as one as they dumped the shards into the waste basket by the fridge. “So you dunno how this happened?”

Alec slumped into the kitchen chair and lit a cigarette. “I wouldn't be askin' you if I did. B'sides, I was outside. I couldn't get in.” She continued to stare at him with a puzzled expression and Alec could feel his irritation rising. How could she not have heard any of that? He'd heard it through three inches of solid wood, plaster and stone! Maybe there  really  was some big joke going down and he was the star? How else could he explain why he'd heard all this racket while Tessie had heard nothing – cleaning and oblivious upstairs mere feet away?

Tessie's brow furrowed as she approached the front door. “Couldn't get in? Alec, the front door isn't locked.” She made a noise when Alec gently moved her aside. She pointed to the locks. “See? Unlocked.”

“Tess, I swear the door was locked tight. I couldn't get in!” Alec drew back from the door, unwilling to believe his own eyes. How could it be unlocked when he'd tried it just moments ago and it had been locked tight? Was it possible the knob had jammed? The door was as old as the house and it wasn't too far of a reach to acknowledge that parts of the house may not work as well as they did when he was a kid. But he'd turned the knob both ways and had gotten nowhere with it. Locked up tight while utter chaos had erupted from somewhere upstairs accompanied by the black bass getting smashed to bits.

Tessie's hand moved through his hair. “Maybe you need some rest, love?” she suggested as she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Maybe movin' in t' this house was a bad idea? So many things have happened here, is it any wonder it's messin' with your head?”

“It's not messin' with me head!” Alec barked angrily, glaring at her. “For Christ's sake, Tess, shit's happenin' here an' you're actin' like I'm mad!” He took another step back and gestured towards the stairs. “How can you fuckin' tell me that you didn't hear any of that!” He turned and stalked away towards the French doors, only vaguely aware that she was sputtering and stammering a response of some kind. He didn't want to hear it. He was fucking done with this. Why was this all happening and why was he the only one who seemed to be caught up in it? What had he done to deserve this? He'd been a victim himself, right? The phantom woman in the basement was the one responsible for what had happened to him as a child. So why decide to give him grief and why not his parents? _They_ were the ones who'd killed her, not him!

He threw open the French doors and stalked across the patio. Another thought nagged at him and he wasn’t sure he wanted to entertain it. If he was the only one seeing and hearing things, did that mean whatever madness his Mum harbored had been passed onto him as well? Assuming there was a genetic element to it, it wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility. But why wait to reveal itself when he was well into middle age? With his Mum and Amy, signs started showing at early ages – his Mum a wee tot and Amy an adolescent. Gender could play a factor, he supposed. He stopped at the incline, glowering down at the treeline. No, this was stupid. He wasn't mental. If that were the case, no doubt signs would have surfaced long before now. Kicking at some loose dirt, he looked back at the house, unsure of what to make of everything. He was definitely experiencing something, but why to only him? Why make it seem like he was losing his mind? Was that the ultimate goal? Tessie wasn't seeing or hearing the things he was, the kids were mostly MIA, but he was pretty sure they'd mention if something was off.

Sighing, Alec turned around and started walking back towards the detached garage. Just get back to going through the boxes and give himself a chance to get his head together. Then apologize to Tess for biting her head off. She had to know this wasn't like him. Look at what was going on all around him, though! Was it any wonder he finally lost his patience? Casting a glance at the house, he returned to the garage and seated himself next to the stack of boxes. Just focus on the current task and he'd attend to whatever the hell was going on later. He pulled a box over, dully noting the scrawl on the side that indicated the box contained some more pictures. Pulling the flaps open, he pulled out small wrapped stacks of photos. He slowly sifted through the stack in his hand, brow furrowing at the unfamiliar faces that smiled back at him. A woman with chestnut hair tending to two small blond children in a little tyke pool. A man with the same woman smiling over their twin babies in what most likely was a hospital. Alec pulled out another stack, dully noting the same man, woman and children – the children a little older in the newest stack. Barely school aged, he guessed.

The rest of the box contained nothing but photos of this strange family. Alec tossed the photos aside, growling frustration. Who the hell were these people and why were their photos boxed away in his parents' garage? Why would his parents have these things anyway? Had they been discovered hidden somewhere and his parents had simply shoved them aside and forgot about them? He climbed to his feet with a groan and pulled over another box, this time finding oddball décor items. He recognized none of it, pulling through the box and finding only things that were not within his parents' tastes. Very bright and cheery stuff, stuff that would have given his Dad an eye-twitch. And while Mum loved some bright and cheery things, her decorative tastes leaned on more natural colors. Browns, dark reds, beige, things of that nature. The box in front of him contained gobs of bright blues, yellows, reds, various shades of orange and white. He couldn't recall seeing any of this littered around the house as a child nor could he recall ever seeing his parents bring shit like this back during their trips. So it was safe to assume that none of this garbage was theirs. Even with his own patchy memory, none of the items he’d come across looked familiar to him and they certainly would have clashed greatly with the color schemes of the house.

He went back to the box of photos and started going through them one by one. Most of the photos were outside, some of them clearly the back yard of the house. He wasn't entirely sure how many pictures he went through, but he was pretty sure he'd gone through three-quarters of the box before finally coming across a few snaps where some of those god-awful brightly colored nick-knacks were visible in the background. And the walls, they'd even painted the walls the same ghastly bright colors. If not for the kitchen in the background that still had retained the marbled yellow walls, he would have thought they weren’t even in the same house. But the photos were clearly the inside of his parents' house. One photo even had a glimpse of the sitting room, which they had not yet tarnished with their hideous color schemes. He gathered several photos together and rushed back to the house. “Tess! Come an' see this!”

Tessie was in the kitchen, bent over the dishwasher when he burst into the house. “See what?” She closed up the dishwasher and approached him with a slight frown. She said nothing as he shoved the photographs at her. She went through them carefully, one eyebrow cocked in confusion. After going through the handful of photos, she handed them back. “What are you seein' Alec? I see photos of your parents with you.”

“No!” Alec cried out, snatching the photos back. “It's not them! It's some other couple with kids. I think they might have been the original owners of the house!” He started to go through the photos again, a low moan coming from within when he realized that the people in the pictures were indeed his Mum and Dad with a small brown haired toddler that could only be him. Even the interior pictures of the house were now the natural colors he'd grown up with. “No, this isn't right!” he moaned, feeling the blood rush from his head. “They weren't in the photos. It was 'nother family an' the house was painted up in this ghastly bright reds an' blues...”

She reached out, her hand resting on his shoulder. “Alec, take a break. Look what all of this is doin' t' you, love. Please rest.” She made a noise when he tore his shoulder away. “Alec, I dun’ know what you’re seein’. I haven't seen nor heard any of the thins' you've mentioned. There's no one else in this house but us!”

“No, you're wrong,” he whispered as he drew back towards the door. “You're the one who refuses t' see what's happenin'.” He wasn't sure what to think anymore. He knew what he'd seen! He knew what he'd heard! He couldn’t explain it, but he knew something was amiss with this house. Deaf to her pleading assurances and apologies, he stormed towards the front door and flung it open, a sinister voice whispering in the back of his head that he was losing his fucking mind and soon he'd be just like his Mum or sister.

**************************

Alec remained slumped over in the old patio chair long after the sun had finally started to set. How was it when he'd gone through those photos, they were clearly snaps of some other family but when he'd tried to bring the proof to Tessie, they'd magically become pictures of his parents with him? He knew he wasn't losing his mind. The pictures had clearly been some strange family he'd never seen before in his life. Why were those photos in the garage? Why were there so many boxes of things that did not belong to his parents or even him? And what of the broken guitar or the strange happenings in the basement? Groaning loudly, he scrubbed his hands across his face, staring at the darkening sky. He didn't want to entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, with his parents' passing, the evil that had taken place within the home was finally free. This really didn't make any fucking sense to him, though. His parents had not been evil people. Quite the opposite, really. But they'd committed evil acts. Acts born of emotion and desperation. And one could say those actions had left imprints within the house. Were the spirits screaming out for vengeance or were they simply trying to be heard for the first time in decades? And if either of these scenarios were true, why was he the only one seeing it all? Why only him? And why him anyway? He’d been just a boy when these things had taken place. He’d had no part in their demise or whatever had taken place.

Rising from the chair, he started to walk towards the incline that led to the tree-line. He wasn't even sure just what it was he planned on doing or what destination he had in mind. He focused on the trees just ahead as he stepped carefully down the incline. He'd gotten better with it over the years, remembering with a great deal of embarrassment how he'd tumbled down it on numerous occasions when his body had refused to cooperate. Funny how his Dad had always been there to give him a ration of shit whenever it happened. Like the old man had some sort of sixth sense when it came to witnessing the misfortune of another. As irritated as it had made Alec over the years, he couldn't deny that he missed it. If Murdoc didn't care, he wouldn't break your balls. That was how he'd been. Even as an old geezer, he still loved riling everyone up with his wisecracks and jabs. It had been part of the old man’s charm – if you could call it that.

He stood at the edge of the woods, dully noting the overgrowth that hid the pathway through the trees. His Dad had created this path when he and Amy were still small children and had fallen to neglect after he and Amy had reached adulthood. Given Dad's age, it wasn't a huge surprise. The man had been well into his seventies by the time both Alec and Amy were grown. He smiled at the little things that told of their presence as he pushed through the shrubbery down the path – a crude carving of their last name with the year his parents had purchased the house forever imprinted into what became an impressive oak tree, a now faded purple ribbon tied to the base of one of the shrubs that Amy had attached there when she'd been a tot and even one of Alec's own toys still half buried at the base of another oak. He paused in the middle of the path and stared at the old Tonka truck. Hadn't his Mum found that in some second hand shop? She'd prattled on and on about how it looked like the ones from when she'd been a kid. It was a miracle that he could even remember that! Funny how the brain worked, eh? He'd had no memory of his life as the crippled older brother – couldn't really remember anything when it came to Amy – but he could remember some distant memory that surely had included her because he'd been at least school aged when it had taken place.

Progressing down the path further, Alec frowned as he looked over the greenery. Some areas looked as if they'd been disturbed. Some of the shrubbery appeared to have been smashed into, some saplings were bent and their leaves stripped from the fragile little limbs. He continued to move down the path, still seeing signs of damage along the way. The only thing that made any sense was possibly a large animal like a deer had crashed through there. But it had been down the path itself, not along side of it or across it. Were there bears where they lived? He certainly couldn't recall ever seeing one during his time in the house. So what had crashed through the shrubs and saplings?

The path opened up to a small clearing which led directly to the sandy banks of the little creek. Alec took a breath and looked behind him. You could barely see the house through the trees. Had this area always been so hidden? He slowly stepped around through the clearing, taking note of more broken shrubs and a sapling that had been bent over almost into the ground. There was something tied to a small birch just ahead near the embankment of the creek. Alec froze in the center of the clearing, staring at the scrap of yellow that hung from the birch. A yellow ribbon? Was this another one of Amy's little trail markers? Though it appeared to be much newer than the faded purple ribbon near the entrance of the path, he reasoned it had to do with the canopy above. The purple one had originally been more exposed to the sunlight where this one would have remained hidden easily from the sun's rays. As he inched closer, he could see it was plastic and not silk, like the purple one. Weathered, but still a brilliant yellow and tied haphazardly around the birch. Done in a rush and not with any sort of care. He knelt down and brushed aside some of the leaves and dirt. The ribbon wasn't tied into a bow, just a hurried knot, some of its length now buried beneath leaves and other natural debris. Still frowning at it, Alec pulled some of the length away, several inches of the yellow ribbon revealing itself. Yellow ribbon with black writing: _**POLIC**_.

Just across from him, on another small tree, was more of that strange yellow ribbon. He scuttled over and pulled more ribbon loose, more words now coming into focus: _**NOT CROSS POLICE LI**_. Dropping the ribbon down, he pushed himself to his feet and stared at the two trees. This ribbon had been tied between the two trees, blocking the access trail to the creek. He could feel his heart slamming in his chest as he looked at the yellow ribbons. _Police line do not cross_. When the hell was this? He passed between the trees and stared at the creek just a meter ahead. Everything looked calm and tranquil just as it always had. The narrow little banks of the creek had prints from various wildlife still imprinted there and even some spots in the dry sand where something had passed through. So when were the police ever here and why exactly? If they'd discovered the secrets buried in the property, surely he would have heard about it. If the news of his sister carried around the globe, finding the remains of two missing Seattlites who'd been missing for decades in the backyard of a world famous musician would surely have made even bigger headlines around the globe. What had brought the police to the woods? Was it possible that it was in relation to his sister? Mum had mentioned once years ago about the police searching the property, but he would have certainly remembered if anything had been left behind because he’d visited these woods often in the years leading up to his parents’ deaths.

“Where'd you come from?” asked a soft voice behind him. He spun with a start, staring at a little blond girl who stared straight back at him without fear. She frowned as she took in his frightened expression before speaking again. “Where'd you come from?”

“Err...I live here,” he whispered back hoarsely, gesturing in the direction of the house. The girl couldn't have been more than six years old, her soft blond hair tied into two loose pigtails. Cartoon character jumper and simple trousers. She looked no different than any other six year old on the planet. Only she was standing in the woods on his property. “Where are you parents, love?” he asked finally.

She gave a small shrug and gestured back towards the property. “Over there.” She turned to look back briefly before returning her focus to Alec. “We got a lease on a big house. It's a nice house. M' Da says the walls need new colors – whatever that means.”

Alec swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched the girl turn and start to walk back down the trail. “You must be new neighbors then.” Her giggles faded away as she vanished into the shrubbery. Alec didn't move from his place on the embankment. Had he noticed a moving van anywhere? There was another house a little ways down the road – the closest neighbors on their little country road – but it had fallen to ruin after the old man who'd lived there passed on when Alec had been a young man. He'd just come out of his coma, if memory served him correctly. His parents had talked about it. The house never had any _For Sale_ signs on the front lawn. He couldn't recall anyone mentioning about it going up on the market. The girl said they were leasing the home, so they were renters? Had the few relatives who'd remained finally fixed it up to rent it out? No, he'd seen the home recently and it was as decrepit as it has always been. There was a smaller house going down the road opposite of the old man's house. Perhaps it was that home. It was significantly further away, but it wasn't outside of the realm of possibility that the girl had cut through the woods and found her way to the clearing with him. For all he knew, it was closer if you cut through the property lines versus taking the road.

Shaking his head, he started back towards the trail. Just let the wildlife take over. Clearing out the shrubs and shit to get the trail back was just too much work. He didn't have the physical or mental energy to deal with restoring their childhood trail. He also made a mental note to check the property lines and possibly consider having a fence put up so the little girl didn't wander over and drown in the creek. He continued his trek down the trail, the back property and house finally revealing itself. It was now dark. The day had gone much quicker than he'd thought. He could have sworn it had been barely dusk when he'd gone to the woods. Most likely lost track of time going through the stuff in the garage.

He steadied himself as he started up the incline, focusing on where his feet landed as he took each step. “Maybe I should install some steps,” he chuckled bitterly when he finally reached the top. The back of the house was in full view fifty yards away. He took a single step and paused, feeling something shift in the air around him. He knew that feeling and it was the last thing he wanted to feel. He'd gotten the same feeling in the basement and in the garage. The air even smelled different. He scanned around the back property, his eyes focusing at the basement. If he strained his ears, he could just hear the pants and moans. A figure emerged from around the other side of the house, running awkwardly across the back patio. Alec focused on the figure as it veered off and started rushing directly towards him. The panting and moaning grew louder and louder, the voice now recognized as the same voice from in the basement. Through the pants and sobs, words could be heard. _Please stop.....please stop...._

The figure revealed itself to be the woman he'd seen in the basement. One eye missing, gruesome cut smile, sobbing and sputtering as she ran towards the woods. Alec stood stock still, realizing that another figure was rushing from around the corner of the house. Nothing more than a blotchy shadow, flickering into focus a fraction of a second before returning to the shadow state. Alicia rushed passed him, the shadow figure still yards behind. It flickered again, revealing dark hair and feral green eyes, rushing almost through him as it continued to chase the terrified woman. Alec cried out, stumbling back as he tried to get out of their way. He turned to look towards the woods, seeing nothing and hearing nothing that indicated there was a chase of any kind. This was a new development neither of his parents had mentioned when they'd finally revealed what became of the person who hurt him. They'd always mentioned how they'd kept her tied up in the basement and tortured her. There'd been no mention of hunting her down like wild animals. Though he'd only caught a glimpse of the shadow's face when it had come into focus, it had been no doubt his mother. And when she'd passed through him off to his left, he could feel her fury. It had felt like burning as she passed through. Rage that burned. Rage that had a focus.

He struggled to his feet and started to walk towards the house. His left side still felt like it burned even though he was well aware there was no visible injury. As he turned the knobs on the French doors, he told himself not to even bother telling Tessie the weird shit that had further interrupted his day. Not that she'd believe him anyway, right? She was stuck in some fucking bubble where she was completely fucking oblivious to what the hell was going on in the home and on the property itself. When he opened the doors and stepped through, he gave a half smile in Tessie's direction on the sofa and turned to go into the kitchen. An ice cold porter was certainly a need at the moment. Tessie watched him as he went about grabbing the bottle and uncapping it. He could feel her eyes on him as he struggled to remain silent. What if the little girl wasn't a neighbor? What if she was one of those things? He couldn't figure out where the girl fit in this seeing that he couldn't fathom his parents harming a child. It was an old home, old when his parents had bought it, so it was entirely possible she was from the house's past before them? Would his parents have bought a home if they'd known someone had died in it or on the property?

That didn't sound right. The girl's clothes were far too modern. He shook his head as he drained half his bottle in one swig. No, it didn't make sense. Her presence didn't make sense. None of this shit made any sense. “It's all bullocks,” he grumbled under his breath as he drained the bottle and tossed it to the sink. He grabbed another and uncapped it quickly, tossing it back just as quick. From within the lounge, he could hear Tessie protesting against his sudden urge to slam them down. Ignoring her warnings, he drank his beer and paced around the kitchen table. Silence. Just ignore. Brush her off. “All bullocks,” he repeated a little louder, laughing softly. He stared around the kitchen, seeing the same muted natural colors he'd always known. The lounge still had its soft caramel walls with dark wood trim. He paused at the stairs, staring up at the wood paneled walls that led up to the second floor. His eyes focused on the wall just above. The wall on the first landing. A wall he'd just looked at mere hours ago. Held firmly to the wall in its holder, glistening as if almost new, was the black bass. The black bass he'd seen smashed to bits just hours ago.


	4. Part IV

Though morning light poured through the windows, Alec remained buried within the blankets of his bed. He was wide awake, listening around him as the house went through its motions. He could hear Tess and Lexi downstairs, hear the telly and even the occasional sound of running water. Nothing was going to get him out of this bed if he had any say in the matter. The morning had started out identical as every morning before – jolting awake from some sort of nightmare he could never remember the moment he opened his eyes. Upon waking, he recognized all the normal morning sounds of Tess and Lexi – all noises and snippets of conversation that were almost memorized at this point. Alec remained wrapped up in his blankets, refusing to rise. Nothing was going to get him out of this fucking bed. He was burnt out and tired and still unable to figure out if he was losing his mind or if his family was utterly fucking blind. Though he always heard Lexi in the morning, he never caught any glimpse of her after. Ben's jacket and even his shoes were seen in the foyer – with no sign of Ben – only for the jacket and shoes to disappear by later in the day. His calls to Ben were still going unanswered. Alec didn't give a toss what needed to be done or whatever in the house. He was going to remain in bed and not fucking move.

Where had the police tape come from? They'd taped the area off for a reason. It was clear it had been a few years but still there all the same. Was it possible they'd found something unrelated to the crimes tied to the home? There were a lot of woods between them and some of their neighbors so it wasn't entirely impossible that the police had been searching and investigating the area for something else entirely that had zero to do with his parents or the property. Then there'd been the little girl who seemed to have vanished once she'd left the woods. And she'd taken the trail towards the house. If she'd cut through the woods from a neighboring home, wouldn't she have gone back the way she'd come? If she'd taken the trail straight back to the house, he would have seen her once he emerged from the trees. He hadn't been more than a few moments behind her. And what of the images he'd seen as he crossed the property? Seeing the Alicia woman being chased down by the shadow thing that revealed itself to be his mother. Why had Alicia been so visible yet his mother had not? The shadow had been nothing more than an imprint. Only clearly seen for split seconds before blotting out into shadows again. Was it because Alicia had died somewhere within those moments while his Mum had lived another fifty years? He didn’t know, but it seemed like a strangely reasonable explanation.

Jesus, listen to himself! He was starting to rationalize something that was beyond comprehension! But why the fuck did it make so much sense? It made perfect sense. Okay, so if that made sense, then explain the little girl. Where'd she come from? If what he was seeing was the ghosts of the house's past, where did that little girl fit in? It was an older home when his parents had bought it, most of the interior already a good twenty years out of date the day they had signed the dotted lines. Maybe the girl was tied to something that happened before they'd all lived in it? Yeah, that made sense. Never mind that her clothing appeared too modern. Basic kids clothing rarely ever changed. Small children were just as comfortable in jumpers and leggings back in the seventies and eighties as they were during his own lifetime. The cartoon character on her jumper was unfamiliar and that could easily be because it was from something before his time. See how easy it was to explain all this crazy shit? If he was willing to accept a possible supernatural element to all that was happening around him, then that could also explain how the black bass had appeared back on the wall intact after both he and Tess had seen it smashed to pieces on the landing. He pulled the blankets tighter against him, feeling a tremor ripple down his spine when Tessie hollered his name from downstairs, announcing breakfast and coffee. Nope, not happening. Today was the day he'd remain in bed. He needed time to think and piece all of this craziness together. It was possible there was no rhyme or reason to all he was seeing, but he had to figure it out somehow.

He continued to listen to the noises and voices downstairs, finally hearing the now familiar sound of the front door closing, announcing Lexi's departure from the home and the last time Alec would see her for the rest of the day. He knew he wouldn't see her at all and then the evening would fly by in a blur only for him to wake the next morning with no memory of how the night hours passed and vague memories of horror and fear from a fucking nightmare he could never fully recall. Every day the fucking same. Nothing changing, the same conversations with Tess, calls to Ben that would go unanswered and then more strange shit happening through the house that only he would be witness to.

Frowning beneath the heavy blankets, Alec slowly pulled the comforters away and looked around the room. The things he'd seen...were they nothing more than phantom memories imprinted on the house – moments in time trapped forever due to the violent natures of their departures from the land of the living? A lot of horrifying things had taken place in this house and on the property, so it wasn't too far of a reach, now was it? Though he couldn't really explain the child or the police tape in the woods, the other things he'd seen were no doubt tied to their life time in the home. But what of the woman he'd seen just mere days ago? She was another unknown factor he couldn't place. Was she connected to the child in some way? Had this home been witness to another tragedy before his parents had bought it?

Tessie could be heard hollering from downstairs again, this time not bothering to hide the irritation in her tone. She'd called for him several times, announcing breakfast and coffee. Determined to remain in their bed, he hadn't even responded or anything. He didn't want to get up and face the day. He wasn't going to let this hellish _Groundhog Day_ get the better of him. But judging by Tessie's tone, maybe refusing to respond wasn't the best avenue? “Tired!” he barked, hearing his voice echo through the room. “Dun' feel good!” He buried himself back into the blankets, refusing to acknowledge her shrill warnings of cold bacon and bodily harm. He could hear her tossing dishes into the dishwasher, the occasional hard clatter of plates echoing through the entire house. Let her be upset. He still couldn't figure out why she wasn't seeing or hearing the strange shit happening in the house. The black bass on the wall – he'd heard it fall and smash from outside the house. She hadn't heard a thing, or so she claimed, and had seen the busted guitar just the same as he had. But it had re-appeared on the wall as if nothing had happened to it and she apparently had never seen it broken on the landing of the stairs. Another mind fuck on top of a mind fuck. He was starting to lose his fucking patience with everything. Enough of this! It’s fucking balls, that’s what it was.

Alec rolled in the bed and stared up at the ceiling. As far as he was concerned, it was going to take an act of god to get him off that bloody mattress. Let's see these spooks try to give him a fright now! He wasn't in the dark and spooky basement, wasn't out in the darkness of the trees outside, wasn't tucked away in the dimly lit garage. He was in his own fucking bedroom and it was full of morning light thanks to the two massive windows – one above the bed and another flanking the side wall. The windows gave him a great view of the back property and even some of the woods beside the home. Any other time, he might have been drinking his coffee and admiring the view, but he had a whole different type of appreciation for these windows now. If there were actual ghosts in his home, let them try to start some shit in here. There were no shadows they could use to hide and fuck with him. He was safe up in the bedroom. They couldn’t spook him up here.

The minutes ticked by and eventually the noises downstairs quieted down. Though he was sure he was hearing Tessie doing her thing through the house, it was difficult to pin point exactly where she was. More than once, he was certain he'd heard her on the stairs, but she never appeared. He remained rolled up in the blankets, listening around him as the house sounds faded in and out. Though he wasn't sure how much time had passed, he cast a quick look at the digital clock and took note of the time. Was it safe to assume at least a hour or more had passed? He could no longer hear anything outside of the room. Straining his ears, he slowly pulled the blankets from around his face. Nothing but silence all around him now. Not even the sounds of the house settling or any other noise that could indicate there was something beyond the bedroom door. The harder he strained to listen, the louder the silence seemed. He could feel his heart pounding and blood thundering in his ears. It was too quiet now, wasn't it? No birds outside, no passing cars, no random pops and cracks from the house and it seemed like Tessie disappeared right along with all of it.

“Tess?” His voice sounded small and helpless in the smothering silence. He said her name again – but louder – as he slowly rose from the bed. “Tess!” When he received no response, he willed himself towards the partially open bedroom door. She most likely was just somewhere in the house where she couldn't hear him. This really didn't seem possible seeing that the house wasn't really that big. Sure, big enough for what would become a family of four, but compared to the other homes along this road, the Niccals house was one of the smallest ones. It's prime feature had been the finished basement that was now a small apartment. Maybe she went down there for something? Didn’t his Dad tell him once that the basement was soundproof? He shuddered at this thought. It had been the main selling feature to his parents. The finished and soundproof basement that turned into their little sex dungeon playroom and also had played a role in allowing them to torture and kill two people without being overheard.

He stood stock still at the entrance to the master suite with his hand inches from the latch. The only thing he could really see beyond the doorway was darkness and vague shapes that he assumed were the molding and other door-frames. Pulling open the door, he stepped out into the hallway carefully. He could hear _something_ downstairs, but couldn't quite place what the sound was. It grew louder and louder and Alec felt a sliver of panic. It was on the stairs now. He uttered a small gasp as he quickly stepped back into the master suite and pushed the door closed. It sounded like footsteps, though it was difficult to determine because the sound was so light. He continued to back up into the bedroom and only stopped when the backs of his thighs hit the bed. Eyes still fixed on the door, he slumped down onto the bed. He could hear the sound traveling down the hall, stopping just outside the door. Heart pounding, Alec reflexively pulled his legs up onto the bed. Fuck, he could even _sense_ whatever the hell was on the other side of that door. A distinct other presence.

The latch turned clumsily and the door opened revealing the same girl he'd just seen the day before. Something was slightly different about her this time and Alec couldn't really place what was changed. The girl was dressed casually in a pair of trousers and plain yellow jumper with light up trainers. She peered across the room at him, flashing a small smile as she entered the room. “Oh, it's you 'gain?” she mused in a soft voice. “Tried t' tell m' Dad 'bout you. He kept tellin' me he didn't wanna hear 'bout it.”

“Where is you Dad, love?” Alec asked, frowning as he watched the girl move about the room and look at things. “I dun' suppose he knows you're here, yeah?”

She shook her head, pausing at Tessie's dresser. Alec wasn't sure what bothered him more – that this girl was so bold as to let herself into his home and just barge into his bedroom or the strange feeling he couldn't shake that said she belonged here in some way. She cast him a brief look from over her shoulder and returned her attention to the items scattered across the surface of the dresser. “Dad's outside. Mum found the yellow tape in the woods an' she's upset. Somethin' 'bout Dad an' the realtor not tellin' her. I guess somethin' bad happened in the woods. They told me I can’t play out there an’more.”

Alec peered out the window that revealed the back property. Christ, he had no idea where this kid had come from or what the hell was so different about her now versus when he'd laid eyes on her just the other day. And why would the girl's Mum give a toss about something that didn't even happen on their property? The police tape was well tucked away on the Niccals' property and nowhere near the adjacent property lines. He supposed if it was a serious thing, everyone would be on edge and upset no matter whose property it had taken place on. “What kind of bad thin'?” he asked finally, rising from the bed and scanning out the various windows. “Do you know?”

“No,” she said in a matter of fact tone. “Dad said it shouldn't matter an'ways 'cause it happened a long long time 'go.” Turning to face him, she held a small trinket in her hand. Alec recognized it as some tacky little figurine that had once belonged to his Mum and had eventually found its way into Tessie's possession. Alec couldn't remember if his Mum had willed it to her or if Tessie had simply claimed it after Mum's passing. The girl appeared to be examining the figurine closely, her watery blue eyes scanning over the elongated legs, large eyes and spikey hair of the little anime figure.

Alec uttered a small noise, his eyes still on the mystery girl. “Look, lovey, you really shouldn't be here. I think it's time for you t' get on out of here. Go back home.”

The girl's brow furrowed as she set the figure down and stepped towards the open door. He couldn't gauge the expression on her face as she looked around the room one last time, her small hand on the door-frame. “You’re a silly an’ confused man,” she laughed as she slipped out into the darkness. “ _This is_ _home_.”

****************

Though Alec had searched through-out the house, he'd never found the girl. The girl had vanished upon departing his bedroom and when he'd finally exited the room to search, found himself the sole occupant in the home. It only solidified his belief that the girl and her family were part of the home's past before his parents had purchased the property. The house was over a century old and had housed probably hundreds of families before his own parents and him had moved there. The girls clothing was modern, but still simple enough to have come from an era before his own. Couldn’t quite figure out why she’d seemed different to him, but no reason to mull over that. The girl was somehow a part of this, he just hadn’t figured out how yet. He continued his search through the house and strangely enough, he'd never come across Tess or Lexi or even Ben. He searched every nook and cranny the house had to offer and came up empty when he finally paused at the foot of the stairs. Though their pictures and furnishings told of the existence of his family, the house was otherwise empty. Ben's jacket and boots weren't by the front door. Lexi's book-bag wasn't in the kitchen where he'd last seen it. And after searching every square inch of the home, Alec couldn't even find Tessie. “Hello?” he called out from the narrow washroom, scanning out the door through the sitting room and the doorway that led to the partially gutted office. No sign of the mystery girl or his own family. All alone in the house that seemed to be trying to tell him something and he didn't know what that something was!

Venturing out into the kitchen, he paused abruptly and looked around. None of their small appliances littered on the counters. No sign of their dishes in the empty open cupboard near the sink. Hob polished and shiny and totally different than what he knew was in the home when he'd last clapped eyes on the kitchen the other day. Matter of fact, all of the larger appliances were now shiny chrome and new. Small dining table where their own table had once stood and on that table was a small vase with flowers, a water pitcher and stack of disposable plastic cups. Alec moved towards the lounge, stopping dead in his tracks as he took in the spacious and empty room. The walls – once a lovely shade of caramel – were now ghastly blues and reds. He'd seen this before, hadn't he? In those pictures he'd found in the detached garage. Christ, the colors were almost blinding. He stared at the empty space, taking notice of a small table with another vase full of flowers and cards littered across the table surface. Other than the small table and some generic artwork sparsely hung about the room, it was otherwise empty. Where had all the furnishings gone? Where were their pictures? Where was his Dad's stuff?

Stepping carefully through the spacious room, he cast a glance towards the French doors and groaned internally at the sight of the cleared and cut back property. The grass had been mowed, the shrubs that once hid the fire-pit were pulled away revealing the massive rock pit his Dad had made using enormous rocks a neighbor had given him that had been leftover from a wall project the neighbor had finished. The rocks had been so big, it had required renting some heavy machinery just to bring them to the house and set them up. Probably the only time in the cheap bastard’s life he’d actually _paid_ someone to do it something for him. Alec shook his head and raked a trembling hand through his hair. Someone had gone through the whole back property and restored it to its former glory. He could even spy new saplings that had been planted near the clearing and see the entrance to the pathway at the edge of the woods. He had to be dreaming. How else could he explain hearing normal life earlier this morning and finding everything changed once he left the room?

A noise from behind snagged his attention and he spun on his heels to face whomever or whatever it was that was unlocking the front door and pushing it open. He found himself staring at the same petite blonde with the sharp features he'd caught a glimpse of mere days ago. Dressed more casually this time in some cropped denim trousers, Keds and simple lacy blouse, she was looking around the house with an almost bored expression. Though her eyes landed on Alec more than once, she took no notice of him as she started to head upstairs, muttering to herself about old homes and updates. He trailed several steps behind her as he climbed the stairs. The woman paused at the first landing and pulled her cell phone from her purse, tapping at it casually before mounting the second set of stairs. He kept a few paces behind her, freezing when his foot hit the one step that creaked, the noise cracking through the vast and empty house as loud as a gunshot. The woman stopped at the top of the steps and turned to look behind her. Though her blue eyes were staring directly at Alec, he soon realized that she wasn't seeing him. She'd heard the wood creak on the step, but that appeared to be about it. She scanned the stairs and the landing, her carefully sculpted eyebrows knitting together in confusion and a noticeable flicker of fear could be seen in her eyes. She laughed to herself, a shaky laugh that didn’t bother to hide the nervousness she was clearly feeling.

Alec watched curiously as she composed herself a bit before resuming her prowl of the house. It was clear her presence had something to do with the vacant state of the house. Alec could feel tremors rippling through him as he took in the empty bedrooms, the awful blue walls of the hallway, the strange stale smell that infiltrated his nostrils and this bizarre stranger who knew the house quite well. With all the weird things that had started happening around him, this particular situation was more troubling because of how long it seemed to be lasting. As he stalked the woman through the upper levels of the house, he could see it was entirely vacant. The woman inspected the rooms, checked windows and even stopped into the loo to check the taps. Keeping her in his sights, Alec began to peer around himself, casually walking through the hall back towards the steps. He could hear her moving around behind him in the vacant room that had once been his childhood bedroom.

Descending the stairs, he could hear her quick step on the now scuff-free laminate flooring, almost shouldering past him to get down the stairs. The contact was brief, their shoulders merely brushing against each other as she rushed to reach the lower level. At the first landing, she was frozen in place, staring back up the stairs with wide and terrified eyes. As Alec got closer, he could see her pupils dilating, her breath becoming quick and frantic. Once again, staring at him but not seeing him. She definitely picked up something though, if her sudden panicked state was any indication. As he got closer, he could feel her rising panic. A low whine escaped from her as she turned the bolted down the second set of steps and into the vacant kitchen. “I should have declined,” she whispered hoarsely as she leaned into the counters, still staring at the stairs with wide and terrified eyes. Alec had no fucking clue what she meant by the remark, his eyes still on her as she took a few breaths and finally exited the home. He stood stock still on the landing, listening to the sounds of outside and the unmistakable sound of a car leaving the gravel drive.

Okay, what the hell just happened? And why was the house empty and painted horrid colors? The more he tried to piece together what just took place, the more confused he became. The strange photos he'd found in the garage came to mind. There was no doubt the pictures were of these very rooms when a different family had occupied the home. The issue at hand was when they'd lived there. His family had lived in this home since he'd been little more than a toddler. They purchased the home shortly after his Dad brought them to England. Given the mystery family's horrendous taste in décor, was it safe to assume they'd resided in the home sometime in the sixties or seventies? Hell, even eighties for all he knew. What did he know of the eras before him? Everything prior to his own birth was retro and old to him! So the family with the shit taste in décor may have lived in the home prior to when he and his parents moved into the place. That made sense. But it still didn’t explain why it was all making itself known now and not during the five fucking decades his family had resided in the house.

Descending the rest of the stairs, he crossed through the kitchen and into the lounge, his focus on the French doors. Some absent thought over how bare they looked without their sheer beige drapes. Flinging the doors open, he stepped out onto the tiled patio. Impeccably clean, even between the tiles. Marbly slate grey and not a single ounce of moss between the tiles. He took a moment to admire the cleanliness of the patio, smiling at the tiles like a fool. Near the opened doors were the patio chairs, also nice and clean. The back property itself was neat and tidy. Fire-pit visible, shrubs and overgrowth cleaned from the clearing and some small saplings planted. Whomever had done this had gone through a lot of work to make this yard presentable. Chuckling to himself, he wandered around the house to the front yard and was struck at how pristine everything looked. Even the fence had been repaired and painted. “What the fuck?” he whispered, looking around the yard in confusion. Though part of him pointed out that this was better than the horror shows he'd been witness to over the last several days, the vacant house and immaculate yard were still shaking him to his core. None of this should be right. The yard was still in chaos. The house was still in some disrepair. And, goddamn it, the house was still fucking furnished! Whatever was happening now most certainly had something to do with the horrific shit he'd been seeing and hearing. Who had been that woman? Where'd she come from? And who the fuck did all of this to the house and yard?

Uttering a groan, he made his way to the front door. Though he almost expected the door to be locked, the latch opened freely and he stumbled through, almost falling into the wall in his zeal to get back inside. The strange stale smell was gone and he found himself staring at a fully furnished home. A cursory glance told him right away that this was _his_ furniture and the walls were back to their muted natural colors his parents (and even himself) had adored. He stepped into the lounge, heart racing as he took in the familiar furnishings and décor. Through the open French doors, he could see the property was in need of work. “I'm losing my fuckin' mind,” he croaked, drawing back into the foyer. Just moments ago, the place was empty and painted with fucking horrific colors and suddenly it was back to normal. Fucking hell, _what_ was normal anymore at this point? He'd been plagued by phantoms from this house's past now for days. And the kids were never there to see it and Tessie always seemed completely oblivious.

“Alec?” Tessie's voice came from behind him. He turned to see her standing near the oven, staring back at him with a furrowed brow. “Alec, are you a'right? You're actin' strange. I just watched you wander through the house an' outside an' then come back in all panicked. What the hell is goin' on?”

His jaw dropped, his mind reeling as he allowed her words to sink in. She'd been here this whole time? Had he been sleepwalking? Why hadn't she intervened? How much more did she see? “Did you see the woman?” he demanded, cringing inwardly at how desperate he sounded. “Did you see her! Please, for the love of fuckin’ god, tell me you saw her!”

Tessie shook her head, a look of alarm on her face at his panicky tone. “No, I didn't see an'one but you.” Her confused and alarmed expression softened when he groaned loudly and slumped down into one of the chairs at the dining table. “Maybe you should go upstairs an' rest some more,” she suggested softly, resting her hand on his shoulder. “I wish you would listen t’ me an’ actually hire someone t’ do all of this. It’s obviously too much for you an’ Ben ‘lone t’ handle.”

He could only nod in agreement, his gaze fixed on the surface of the table. “Suppose I should,” he muttered dismally, eyes still on the table. “Suppose I should...” Honestly, he didn't know what the fuck to do anymore. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Tessie was worried about him. Christ only knows what Lexi was seeing or hearing, though he’d still had not yet seen her since all this craziness had started. His head hurt, his eyes hurt and every part of him vibrated with lingering anxiety and fear. Just like that strange woman. He could sense her fear. Hell, he could see her fear. Whatever it was she was seeing, if not him, had terrified her enough for her to decide to vacate the house with a quickness. That was what he wanted to do at the moment. Just take Tessie and Lexi and go find a flat or house in the city. Enough of this house and its craziness. Either he was going absolutely fucking batshit crazy or the phantoms of the house were making sure only he was witness to their shenanigans.

Tessie moved her fingers through his hair, dragging him from his troubled thoughts. It felt good to feel the edge of her nails as they dragged against the skin, smoothed his hair and occasionally grazed his bearded cheek. He sighed against the touch, closing his eyes and listening to the sound of her breathing and his own heart as it finally found its pace. She pressed her face into his hair, sighing softly. “I hate t' be a nag, love, but dun' forget you were plannin' on tearin' out that damp wall in the study. More water is comin' through the walls where the Gibson is hangin' from.”

“I know,” he whispered back, “I know. A'ready started it earlier yesterday...”

He could feel her stiffening against him, her face drawing back. “Alec, you spent yesterday workin' on the toilet in the basement apartment. You weren't an'where near the study.”


	5. Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: PHANTOM IMAGES OF MURDER AND TORTURE

“Oi, Dad! Where are ya, mate! I thought you said you needed help with some house projects!”

Alec perked to attention at the sound of Ben's voice. He was still sitting at the edge of the bed trying to shake away the remnants of the nightmare he could never remember. Was that really Ben he'd heard? Were his ears deceiving him? Christ, Ben's voice was music to his fucking ears! It didn't seem real that after days of not seeing hide nor hair of the lad, he was finally in the house. Alec scrubbed the sleep from his face and shot off the bed, rushing through the partially open bedroom door. He could hear heavy footsteps downstairs – too heavy to be Tess or Lexi. Cracking a smile and laughing loudly, Alec made a brisk walk down the hall towards the stairs. “Ben!” he cried out, still laughing. He didn't care if he sounded fucking mental. After how badly his days had gone, this was a silver lining! “Bloody hell, boy, it's great t' hear your voice!” He pounded down the stairs, using the banister to keep his balance as he practically leaped over the landing and onto the next flight. “I've gotta tell you, Ben, it's been utter hell...” His words trailed off once his feet hit the kitchen and he found himself the lone occupant. “Err....Ben?” When silence greeted him, a loud huff erupted from him. This was going too fucking far. “Damn it, Ben, stop fuckin' with me!”

Ben's jacket could be seen hanging in the foyer and though this gave Alec a glimmer of hope, he knew the jacket had been seen countless times and would always vanish at some point later in the day. But this time it was different. It had to be. He'd heard Ben's voice from the kitchen and had heard him casually moving through the house. No Tessie and no conversation over morning coffee about mental illness and his family. No Lexi or even the sound of her leaving. Alec erupted into another loud huff, looking around. Maybe Ben had gone back out to the car for something? It seemed logical enough, yeah? After all, the lad had arrived to give him a hand with some of the shit that needed to get done around the house. Alec wasn't sure where they'd start, but he'd figure it out once Ben came back inside. He didn't question the lack of Tessie's presence or where Lexi had run off to. It was just a beautiful change of pace not to have the morning play out the fucking same. Lexi was most likely at school and Tess was most likely in town getting groceries. And Ben had finally showed up at the house!

A quick search of the lower levels revealed nothing more of Ben's presence other than his blasted jacket. Alec's face twisted into a scowl as he looked out the windows, spying Ben's little blue hatchback in the drive but no further sign of the lad. This was another new development that fed into Alec's belief that the man was somewhere on the property. For what felt like days, the only evidence of Ben's presence in the house had been his jacket and other times his boots and that had been about it. Actually hearing his voice and now seeing the blue hatchback only energized Alec more. He just knew the young man was somewhere Rushing through the lounge and pulling open the French doors, Alec stared hard at the back property. “Ben!” he bellowed, hearing his voice echo and fade off into the trees. “Where you at, son?” It was his own voice that answered back in a distant echo. Stepping out onto the tiled patio, Alec scanned the treeline in the hopes he could catch movement or even a noise that might indicate where the fuck Ben was at. When this produced nothing, Alec slid back into the house with a growl. He could still see the boy's car in the drive and jacket in the foyer. So where the hell had he disappeared to? “ _Oi, BEN_!” His own voice answered back, echoing through the house. More fuckery, yeah? Finally thinking this long running nightmare was over and the joke was on him. Hardy-fucking-har.

He tried to think back to when he first started to take notice of things just not being quite right. It occurred to him that he couldn't even place just when he started to notice of the weirdness. Had it started with the feelings of de ja vu? The phantoms? The strange little things happening in the house that only he seemed to see or remember? The black bass had been smashed on the landing of the stairs. He'd seen it and so had Tess. But hours later, it was back on the wall and intact with Tess insisting that nothing had happened to it. This was probably what fucked with him the most – Tess was either not present when the strange things were happening or never around. And when he did find her, she was completely oblivious to things. He'd started to think himself mental really. How could he not? Seeing dead people, things happening in the house that only he seemed to see or even remember and other things that continued to fuck with his head. He'd been relieved to hear Ben's voice but now that same low grade anxiety he'd been feeling for days now was starting to creep back in. First it was the same bleeding conversation over their morning coffee which turned into him waking up being the sole occupant in the home other than whatever the fuck else was hiding in the walls and shadows.

His thoughts were interrupted when he spied Ben scrambling to get into the driver's side of his car. He looked pale and horrified, firing up the engine of his car with his foot firmly on the gas and the engine roaring to life. Realizing that the little blue hatchback was peeling out in reverse and already backing into the street, Alec rushed to the front door, hollering the man's name as he ran out into the front property. Though he was frantically waving his arms and yelling the lad's name, Ben was blind and deaf to his presence. Alec could hear him shifting the car hard, the gears grinding before the little car lurched forward and sped off down the road. Alec stood in the gravel drive, staring at the empty road, still able to smell the exhaust from the little car. At least this time he could say he wasn't totally losing his mind, yeah? This thought brought a laugh from him as he turned and looked back up at the house. “What are you tryin' t' tell me?” he asked aloud.

Was it possible he was in a coma and this was all a dream? All it would have taken was a severe enough grand mal seizure. He had managed to have a great run given the physical issues he had so it wasn't too far of a reach to wonder if perhaps the big one had finally hit. He probably _was_ in a hospital cot, hooked up to numerous machines that would work to keep him alive while he slept away his life. Alec didn't really want to entertain this notion, but what other explanation could there be? He'd spent five years in a coma and had dreamt a whole different life so it certainly seemed plausible that he had gone under again and this time was stuck in some never ending nightmare. So this would mean he could wake at any time, right? Holy Christ, wouldn't that be a kick in the fucking pants, eh? He couldn't really argue against how real it all felt simply because the last time the world felt real, it had all been a dream. People that he knew – or even people that he thought he knew – had all been nothing but figments of his mind and memories. Most of the people probably nothing more than faces he’d passed on the street, having no idea who they were but his mind cataloguing them away to use as unknown co-stars in a weird dream life that he could still remember as clear as day. It was actually strange thinking about it all now because he hadn’t really thought about it in years now. But it was a plausible explanation to everything he’d been experiencing in the house.

He turned away from the kitchen window, finally acknowledging that Ben wasn't coming back. What the hell spooked Ben so badly that he was quick to pound pavement and get the fuck off the property? He'd looked absolutely horrified. Alec shook his head, unsure of what to make of the panic-stricken Ben as he'd all but fallen into his car and peeled out like his life depended on it. It only seemed to solidify the belief that maybe he was stuck in another fucking dream he couldn't escape. It surely explained the phantoms and other weird happenings. What happened to the Alicia woman in this house had been no secret to him. He knew his parents had kept her alive for days while torturing her. And since he knew this, it only made sense that his mind would concoct this insane nightmare of seeing the phantoms that haunted this house.

Tessie emerged from upstairs, descending the stairs casually with a mug of coffee in her hand. “Oh, you're awake?” she chirped. He watched as she set his mug onto the table before turning to pour herself her own cup. Alec stared hard at the table, at the black mug with the faded writing and at the newspaper that lay between his seat and where she usually sat. Tessie continued preparing her mug of coffee, almost humming to herself as she poured some cream and then turned to claim her usual chair.

Alec slid into his seat warily, his eyes on Tessie as she sipped her coffee and opened up the paper. “An'thin' good in the paper t'day?” he asked as casually as he could. “It's been slow news the last week or so.”

“Nothin' of interest, really,” she murmured as she continued to flip through the paper. “Few sales at the market, some government bullshit....not much else.”

Alec gave a small nod, struggling to control the panic and confusion that was threatening to now take over. Here we fucking go again, yeah? The fucking _exact_ same morning conversation. They'd eventually turn the conversation to Amy and the visit that now seemed ages ago. And from there it would be comparisons between his mother and sister. Alec brought the mug to his lips, his hands shaking as he slurped at the coffee. He was either going completely fucking insane or he was stuck in some nightmare that clearly was never going to fucking end. Part of him said to just roll with it and another part of him said to fight it. He wasn't sure what to do at this point. There'd be talk of his Mum and sister, talk of the projects needed around the house and then he'd be outside with the power-washer trying to clean the patio and wondering just how the hell he ended up there. From there, the house would come to life and then he'd wake up again and it would all start all over again. He frowned at his mug, staring at the dark liquid as an idea came to mind. If nothing came of it, then he just would have to admit that he had lost the plot. “I was thinkin'....we should hire some contractors an' just sell the house. Feels weird livin' in here 'gain an'way.”

Tessie paused mid-sip, her eyes flashing up in surprise. “Sell the house? But you grew up here, Alec. Are you sure that's what you want t' do?”

He nodded in response, his eyes fixed on her as he gauged her expression. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but surely something strange would happen now that he's completely shifted the conversation. Would the house erupt and burst open, revealing all of its secrets and more? Would Tessie evaporate where she sat and he'd once again find himself the lone occupant of the house? Come on now, house, get with the program! He wasn't going to allow it to dictate his day anymore. Let it crumble around them! He was practically bracing himself in his chair, prepared for the house to implode or do whatever. When nothing but a strange and uncomfortable silence passed between them, he cleared his throat and set the mug down. “Yes, reckon I am. There's a lot of work needed an' with it bein' an older home, the work will be never endin'.” For a split second, he was sure he felt the house react. A low tremble beneath his feet, the faint sound of pictures rattling on the walls. “Too many memories, an'way,” he added, almost smiling to himself as he drained his coffee. He could definitely feel something. A rumble. A vibration. The distant sound of trinkets rattling against a surface.

“Suppose we could,” she whispered with a touch of sadness. “Doesn't seem right, Alec. This is the family home.” Her resistance was expected. She'd grown up within this house too, when you got right down to it. Their childhood memories were entrenched in the grey-stone cottage just as its history and phantoms were. “I just want t' go on the record an' make it clear I dislike the idea, but it's your home, Alec an' if you wanna get it fixed up t' sell, that's your choice.”

“Good, it's settled then,” he said with triumph, still able to feel the low rumbling around him. The trembling was mild, barely felt. Tessie clearly wasn't feeling it like he was. It was also a very real possibility that he was anticipating the reaction and whatever he was feeling was normal house stuff that his imagination was taking for something else. Sure, he could buy that. Just move forward with the new plans and see what happens. If everything went well and the house sold without issue, he'd check himself into the nearest psychiatric facility to get his melon checked because then he would finally accept that he was starting to lose his mind and everything he'd been witness to was nothing more than hallucinations.

Tessie finished her coffee and got to her feet. She said nothing as she set her mug into the sink and ventured off to do whatever it was she was going to do. Seeing that she appeared immune to the things happening, it didn't really surprise Alec that she wasn't on board with selling off the family home. She'd never been present when all the crazy shit happened. She most likely assumed the selling of the house was a rash and impulsive decision due to the amount of work the home still needed. She was well aware that he was limited in his fix-it abilities and a lot of the things the house needed required professional assistance. And even if they were able to repair the home and update its more aging fixtures, it didn't mean more shit wouldn't present itself down the road. Old homes were good for that. Fix and update the kitchen and watch one of the bathrooms go tits up. Update the plumbing and watch a gas line break and blow a room out. The last time the house was updated was probably the nineteen eighties or nineteen nineties and this ghastly style was evident in the kitchen and bathrooms.

Another strange tremor could be felt beneath his feet. Bracing himself, he slowly scanned around the kitchen. Ben's jacket was no longer hanging in the foyer – which he'd totally expected – and he could no longer hear Tessie moving around in the house. Just like clockwork. And if he pricked his ears and listened carefully, he could almost hear the house groaning. Chances were, he'd felt and heard all of this, but had been so preoccupied with whatever he'd been doing, had ignored them and carried on. Not like it was obvious, right? The tremor could barely be felt and the noises were so low, they were masked by the simple sounds of how the air moved within the house. A strange rolling rumble that had escaped notice every single time. Drowned out by the sounds of life in the house. Mistaken for the sounds an old house makes when settling. Felt now because he was frozen and silent, almost pressed against the table. “I'm done with you!” he said loudly to the air around him. “Whatever you're tryin' t' tell me, save it for the next occupants!”

Beneath his feet, something crashed hard down in the basement. The sound had been so sudden, Alec nearly jumped out of the chair with a yelp. Adrenaline pounding, he rose from the table and set his mug on the counter. More noises from downstairs in the basement apartment. Another crash, this time much louder and shattering the silence. He could feel every hair stand up on end as more noises broke the uneasy silence. The fucking basement. Always the fucking basement. He'd washed his hands of the basement days ago, right? It felt like days anyway. When more crashing noises could be heard, he jumped again without meaning to. Cursing under his breath, he broke away from the kitchen table and crossed the short distance to the door leading downstairs. As he got closer, he could feel the tremor beneath his feet getting louder. The walls were even vibrating, the pictures and wall décor rattling in place. A shaky sigh erupted from him as he reached for the knob and turned it quickly. As the door swung open slowly, the only thing he could really see was darkness and some shadows. The noises had abruptly stopped and Alec could feel his nerve wavering as he took in the dark and foreboding basement apartment.

“Suck it up, man,” he whispered to himself. It was time to nut up and face whatever was going on down there. His abrupt change of plans seemed to be the root in how the house was reacting. Why it had taken him this long to realize this, he didn't know. But it made the most sense, right? Every morning he'd awoken to the day starting out the same and every morning he knew exactly what he should have been doing but opted to take on different tasks. Whatever kind of nightmare he was stuck in, bucking the day's events seemed to be the catalyst. Maybe if he really pushed to change it up, it would lead to him waking up finally? He cast a quick look over his shoulder at the empty kitchen, the dull rumble that seemed to reverberate through the house and the tremor beneath his slippered feet. “I think I'm on t' you.”

From the darkness below, a new noise could be heard. Faint at first, rising in volume. Initially he took it for a woman sobbing but as he strained to listen to the noise, he realized what he was hearing was not a woman, but a man. The light down below crackled and flickered on, revealing not the basement apartment, but a chrome table and shiny chrome counters. Sucking in a sharp breath, he slowly descended the stairs into the basement. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, the light flickered again, darkness falling upon him for several seconds before lighting up again. The polished chrome table was now covered in something thick and dark. He could even see it splattered all around. On the floor, on the walls. He could feel the air changing around him, hair standing up again as the familiar scent of blood and fear filled his senses, another smell now invading. He knew this smell, the smell of sex. The air of the basement was heavy with the smell of blood, sex and fear. The work-benches were almost catastrophic looking, tools and whatever else toppled over, some rolling around on the floor. He stood frozen at the foot of the steps, taking in the horrifying changes. His father's words could be heard in his head – decades later – confessing to not only killing the Alicia her accomplice but another person who had gotten too close to the truth. As the light continued to flicker, the dark substance disappearing and reappearing, Alec stepped further into the basement, struggling to prepare himself for whatever fresh hell the house was about to reveal to him.

The light above continued to flicker and snap and crackle, the room's condition flickering violently between OCD level cleanliness and something out of a horror film. Sparkly clean, shiny chrome, polished linoleum, a dark swing-hammock thing hanging in the corner and then changing in a blink of an eye to thick, dark dried blood splattered through-out the basement, pooled on the table, and even some of the tools rolling across the floor. Alec worked to control his breathing, the heavy and unpleasant odors still hanging in the air. The smell in the air was so thick, he could almost taste it.

Swallowing back the lump forming in the back of his throat, he continued to will himself towards the work-benches, unsure of his intentions. This room should have been filled to the brim with furniture and laid out like a fucking obstacle course and yet here he was just waltzing across the floors as if it were nothing. He could even feel the blood squelching beneath his slippers and this made his stomach lurch in response. He was going to be sick if the fucking room kept changing like this! Gasping against the urge to throw up, he reached the work-benches finally and braced himself against them. All across the surface were toppled items and blood. Some of it was smeared, but what caught his attention were the set of bloody hand-prints that were set just almost too perfectly with a larger smear centered between them. The size of the hand told him these were the prints of a man and it was a man who had exceptionally long fingers. And though the culprit behind the prints was obvious, Alec couldn't help but stare hard at them. Their placement was significantly wide, perfectly placed along side the larger smear. He held his hands out slowly, hovering over the prints. Given the angle, a slow realization crept into his head, flashing horrifying images along with it.

 _Oh fuck...I know exactly what is happening here_.

He recoiled from the work-bench, a noise of disgust erupting from him. Fucking hell, how was it his parents could be so fucking disgusting! His dad had fucked his mom there, smeared in someone's fucking blood. Moaning, he swiped his hands against his lounge-pants. Oh god, he could even hear it. In and out with the flickering light, just faint enough to not quite notice it at first. Grunts, moans, the sounds of flesh striking flesh, cries from what Alec could only assume was their latest victim. All of the noises mingling together but decipherable. His stomach lurched again, whatever food contents in his stomach ready to make a return appearance. He needed to get out of here. The sounds were growing louder now, filling the room and bouncing off the walls. Fuck this! He uttered another gasp, his eyes darting towards the stairs. Shadow figures moved around him, coming out of the field of vision so abruptly he jumped with a yelp. Shadow figures that flickered into a focus a split second and nothing more, revealing themselves as his parents, tangled together in what appeared to be a struggle over something. Their expressions were not that of passion or lust, but burning fury. And just that quick, nothing more than shadows moving towards the table. He could hear a man crying and pleading for his life amidst the sounds of hissed rage and struggle. The table surface began filling with blood, flowing from a source Alec couldn't see. The phantom man's sob's fading in and out as the blood spread across the sides. His eyes were locked on the spreading pool of blood, a naked man bound to the table flickering into view mere moments before vanishing from sight.

Okay, enough of this. Fucking enough! Alec skirted around the table and rushed towards the stairs. Reaching the foot of the stairs, Alec mounted the first step and looked up. He groaned aloud at the sight of a very young Amy sitting near the top of the steps. Clear as day before his eyes, sitting down quietly and taking in whatever was happening in the room. Even if the things he'd seen and heard were incomplete, there was no doubt in his mind that she was seeing everything. She couldn't have been more than three or four. Dark eyes large and wide, fixed on the atrocity taking place just behind him. She was clad in a light nightgown, her black hair long and loose on her shoulders, completely frozen in place. Alec stared at her as he climbed each step one by one. Though it appeared that she was looking directly at him, he knew she was looking through him. She was watching what was happening in the basement. He stepped around her carefully and rushed the last few steps up. Slamming the door shut, he slumped back against it, his legs threatening to give out.

Jesus fucking christ, this was it, wasn't it? _This_ was the fucking catalyst. She'd seen them in their worst possible way. She'd been witness to the murder of the private investigator. She'd watched their parents screw each other's brains out, most likely covered in the man's blood, before slaughtering the poor sap right there on the table in their _Playroom_. A fucking playroom is what they called it! No fucking wonder she was off the rails! Alec could feel himself sinking down to the floor, his legs no longer sturdy enough to hold him up. Good god, it all made sense now, didn't it? The murders she'd committed were her playing the role of their Dad. She’d become the aggressor, the dominant one. Lewd as the old man had been and as disgusting as his sex life had been, there were lines he'd absolutely refuse to cross. Amy had cared nothing for those boundaries and gleefully destroyed lives so long as it fed into her depraved and gluttonous wants. And he'd just been given a front row seat to that defining moment that would lead to the near collapse of their family. The monster twenty years in the making.

Alec slumped down, fighting back against an overwhelming sense of defeat. He'd challenged the house and the house reacted. It dished up something it knew would horrify him to his very core and served it to him mercilessly. The other thing that shook Alec up was how it managed to reveal another long buried secret. Amy had witnessed their sex fueled killing of the private investigator when she'd been little more than a tot. And only the universe itself knew how much she'd truly witnessed before they'd killed the man. Still shaking, he dragged his hands across his face, wiping away sweat and tears. His whole family was fucked up. His parents, his sister...hell, even Ben had been a complete whackadoo at one point. And though there was still a chance that Amy would have gone on to do what she did, he was confident he'd found the spark that ignited that fire. Just as the abuse his mother had faced sparked something dark inside her, witnessing the depravity their parents had been capable of sparked something dark inside of Amy.

_Two sides of the same coin._

Both had used violence and power to fuel their lust.

 _The same coin_...

Still slumped against the door, Alec let out a wail, slamming the back of his head into the door. He could hear his voice echoing through the upper levels, fading off into nothingness. His Mum was mad. His sister was mad. And surely he was mad because he was convinced that this fucking house was taunting him and fucking with him. He actually believed the house called his fucking bluff. Reason said this wasn’t possible. It was a house, for fuck's sake. A fucking house. It couldn't feel. It couldn't speak. This was a dream, a nightmare, a fucking hallucination. It had to be. There was no other explanation he could think of. He was either completely losing his fucking mind or he was in another fucking coma in some hospital room and this was nothing more than a nightmare. Please god, if you're around, I'm begging you to wake me up. Get me out of this mind fuck. Hell, I'll report to the authorities and let them dig the property up. Give families closure over their missing loved ones. Just please please wake me up. I can't handle this anymore!

He closed his eyes, struggling to control his rapid and frantic breathing. Okay, okay...he challenged the house. Changed how the day was playing out. Each day the same, only he kept changing it up. Changing it up caused the house to react. The house reacted by revealing the horrors that took place over the years. This was on him. He was causing this, right? Though he couldn't quite figure out just how he knew this, he was certain that everything was happening because he kept choosing to change up how he went about his day. Wake up, talk with Tess, clean the patio, clear the overgrowth in the yard and then on to the smaller tasks through the house. He'd ignored the order, opting to do different things each time. And each time he changed it up, he became audience to something horrible that only he was seeing. As to why it was happening this way, he still didn't know, but he was pretty sure he had figured it out. As for feeling and hearing the house react, he could only assume it was more obvious now because he was refusing to perform the day in the order it should have gone in.

Rising to his feet, Alec uttered a humorless laugh. It all seemed too insane to believe, but what other explanation could there be? Look at what just happened down in the basement. And finding out that Amy had witnessed that shit? Fucking unreal, that's what it was. Old memories surfaced, something significant to the shit he'd seen in the basement. There'd been a time when Amy stopped speaking. She'd been maybe four years old at the time and her silence had shaken their Dad up something horrible. He could even recall hushed arguments from his parents' room, catching reference to Amy as they bickered about whatever it was they'd been bickering about. He could even recall being a little nervous around Amy. Nothing more than a child himself, he could _remember_ the uneasiness he felt when she was close. How she watched everyone, their father becoming a particular favorite for her. Shuddering violently, Alec rubbed the back of his neck. He had almost zero memory of his childhood, let alone his childhood with Amy, and he was suddenly remembering a time that most likely was the beginning of Amy's twisted world. Her silence had been because of what she witnessed and their father seemed to know this. Why else would he keep referring to the nightmare she'd witnessed? Oh christ, he remembered that too? Their parents had tried to make her believe it was a nightmare. _They fucking knew_! Maybe they weren't aware of how much she'd seen, but they knew she'd seen enough and it had been why she'd fallen to silence. They knew and they’d tried desperately to convince her that she hadn’t seen what she’d seen.

***********************

It was either dawn or it was dusk. Alec could admit he hadn't paid enough attention at this point, slumped in one of the patio chairs with a cigarette burning between his fingers. The back property was still overgrown and unkempt and this brought some relief. After what had happened down in the fucking basement, seeing everything look as it should was a welcome sight to his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to do anything further. Every little thing he did brought some sort of new hell and though he knew what he should be doing, he preferred to remain in his seat while smoking his cigarette and willfully ignoring everything around him the best he could. Ben had never returned after fleeing the house, Tessie emerged some time after his basement escapade completely clueless as to why he was so fucking shaken. As usual, yeah? Lexi was still MIA as well and he couldn't quite figure out what was becoming of her and why everyone kept vanishing. Always just before some crazy shit went down too. It was enough to drive Alec completely fucking mad, but he was started to wonder about his mental state as it was. He reasoned it was easy to convince himself this was all a nightmare, even if it felt too fucking real. Remember, the other life lived felt real also and it was nothing more than a dream. So living in some nightmare on repeat wasn't too much of a reach.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, watching the cherry at the tip flare up bright orange and casting his face in a faint glow. Whatever plans he had for the day would have to wait. He needed this moment of solitude. The air was crisp and he could smell the greenery and even the faint scent of water from the creek hidden away in the woods. This was pleasant and it seemed to be working wonders for his overwhelmed brain. Though he wasn't sure what his next steps would be, none of that mattered at the moment as he smoked his cigarette in blessed silence while taking in the beauty of the back property. Overgrown or not, it was an impressive patch of property. Little over three acres, if he recalled the specs correctly. Once again the smallest property in the area, but had been more than enough for his parents.

He was still convinced this was all some fucked up nightmare in which he couldn't wake from. How else could all of this be explained? And if it was a nightmare, the phantoms weren't going to call the shots any-fucking-more. If this was all in his head, then he'd work to control the events and outcome the best he could. And this meant willing himself to make phone calls and prepare to sell the fictional version of their home, even if the house fucking imploded within itself from the drastic shift in events. He actually hoped it would cave in within itself. Go ahead and reduce yourself to fucking rubble. He and his dream family would take their happy asses back into the fucking city and carry on like this shit never happened. If he was going to get stuck in a never ending bullshit dream, he'd take the reins and make sure he had full control. Fuck this house and fuck whatever the hell haunted it.

The newest basement adventure was enough for him to decide then and there he'd never set foot down there ever again. He could still smell the blood and sex, still see the room's condition shift and change with each flicker of the light. He'd been on the brink of vomiting between the sight and the smells! Of course, when he had finally drummed up enough courage to at least open the door and take a quick look, the light revealed the remodeled basement apartment which was cluttered to the brim with his parents' old furniture. This hadn't surprised him at all seeing that whenever weird shit went down, it always went back to normal after he'd vacated the area. Enough to make him look like a nutter whenever he tried to tell Tess.

He stubbed his cigarette out into the makeshift ashtray he'd wrangled out of a small bucket and some dirt and got to his feet with a groan. Should he go into the woods and investigate that creek area more? The little mystery girl – which he still wasn't a hundred percent convinced was real – had said something bad had happened out there. Well, of course it had been bad. The police tape wouldn't be out there for nothing, right? But what did it mean? What had taken place? Staring out at the woods, he took a few breaths and started walking across the overgrown lawn. While weird things had happened in the woods, it still had nothing on the fuckery going on in the house. Investigating the woods a bit more might actually reveal something that would give him some answers. Or it could just as easily lead to more questions than answers. Alec paused at the incline, gauging the slope and path. Dad had been able to take the path without so much as breaking a sweat, even when he was getting too old to do much else. Alec had never been as fortunate. He'd never been able to take the path without slipping. Even now, it looked treacherous. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward carefully and slowly made his way down the incline. He could feel his trainers slipping in the muddier areas of the path, but otherwise managed to make his way down without ending up on his back at the bottom of the fucking thing, as he'd done on numerous occasions (which always led to a good laugh from his Dad and whomever else was with them).

The sunlight disappeared behind the trees as he neared the treeline, slivers of light now cutting through. Was investigating the woods a good idea? Though a part of him insisted he should head into the trees and check out the clearing near the creek, he remained fixed at the treeline and unwilling to move. So some weirdness happened here too. He should be a fucking pro at this by now seeing that the shit in the house had been ten times worse. What was a phantom child and yellow police tape compared to seeing people being butchered, right? And he wanted to get to the bottom of what had taken place down by the creek. Police tape had been there for a reason and given the history of the property and his family, surely whatever had been found hadn't been good. Was it possible the police had been given a tip about his family and that had brought some form of investigation? Would they attempt to investigate something that happened decades ago? And if so, why not talk to him since he was the current owner of the home and only a child when the horrible things had taken place? They couldn't say he was any kind of person of interest because the last known murder on the property had taken place when he was no more than nine or ten years old. There was no way they'd investigate something linked to the property's past without talking with him first to get permission to even enter the property. So whatever had brought the authorities here had zip to do with what he knew of his parents. Was it possibly linked to his sister? They had only been able to link her to six or seven victims and it was speculated that there'd been at least a dozen. The police had been to the property before while investigating his sister’s crimes, so was it possible some new information had brought them back?

Alec swallowed back the uncomfortable lump in his throat. Their father had helped Amy conceal several murders. Alec knew this because his father had admitted to this. He’d also found mentions of it in the journals his father had kept. The entries had been extremely vague and Alec suspected Murdoc had done this on purpose in the event the journals had found themselves into the wrong hands, but reading the entries in context with everything Dad had written regarding Amy made them all quite clear in what he was eluding to. To those that were aware of what was really going on under the radar, he was screaming from the rooftops his hand in helping Amy cover up the murders, but to untrained eyes that might not make the link, they were the vague ramblings of an old man regretting not being as involved with his daughter as he'd been with his son and simply doing what he could to tell her that he'd loved her and wanted to protect her.

Between the journals and some simple research, it hadn't been difficult to find links between several victims and Amy Niccals. There'd been a man and woman who had a loose connection to Amy via an old school chum. The man and woman had been found in a torched motor home, reports saying they'd been alive with the fire started. Evidence they'd been restrained and covered with petrol. Boot prints outside the torched motor coach indicated two perpetrators, one smaller in stature than the other. Alec was pretty certain this had been Amy and Murdoc. The killing had a superficial link to Amy, and the authorities hadn't been a hundred percent convinced the murders had been her doing because they hadn't fit her victim profile. Amy's normal targets were all young women, small in stature, and the murders had all been sexually motivated. Bianca Swaine had been forty nine and Tim Haggerty had been forty two and their murder had differed greatly from Amy's normal M.O. Hell, Alec hadn't even been convinced she'd played a part in it, but her link to them couldn't be ignored. Tim Haggerty had been dating Amy's best mate Stacy and had also started seeing Bianca behind Stacy's back until Bianca had called Stacy herself to tell the woman all about his side relationship. Alec hadn't been conscious when all of this had taken place and his knowledge of what really happened had been gleaned from his father's journals as well as what research he could find on the double murder. Tim and Bianca had been solely out of vengeance. Amy wiped them off the face of the planet because they'd hurt someone close to her. Dad had helped and may very well had been the one to suggest how to dispose of them to ensure their deaths were never linked to Amy or himself.

Another unsolved murder had also been brought to his attention during his mad research of his sister's crimes. Another murder that would never be linked to Amy or their family. It had been a girl Alec had attended secondary school with. A rancid bitch of a young woman who'd made it her personal mission to make his life a living hell. Her remains had been found two decades after she'd gone missing by a transient camp that had set itself up in the area where she'd been killed. Wendy Krump had been seventeen when she'd gone missing, the same age as Alec at the time. Alec had a vague memory of being questioned about her disappearance but nothing more had happened on their end. The crazier part was that children's clothing had been found buried with her, covered in blood, but too degraded for forensics to determine who it may have belonged to due to large quantities of bleach that had been poured over everything. Alec had focused on the children's clothing found in the shallow grave. Police merely suspected Krump had fallen victim to a paedophile and the clothing may have belonged to another victim. News reports had stated that the clothing belonged to a child approximately no older than eight or nine years old and though it had been many many years, Alec remembered that Amy had been a tiny mite of a child and most likely would have fit into that size back then. She'd been eleven years old when Krump disappeared and her age alone would have ruled her out because nobody would have ever guessed a child her age and size was capable of bludgeoning a seventeen year old to death before torching her body.

Alec knew better, though. It was the beginning of it all, wasn't it? Amy's first kill, done in an effort to protect him. Or worse yet, what if she'd done it simply because she _wanted_ to kill and figured Krump could at least justify her actions? Did it really matter what led to it at this point? It had been nearly forty years since Krump had gone missing and twenty since her remains had finally been found. Everything about the crime now in a box and file in some police evidence locker, unable to be solved due to lack of sufficient evidence and time. It seemed too insane to be real, but Alec knew better. At eleven years old, Amy had successfully concealed her hand in the murder of the young woman and would never be linked to it. A murder she’d committed practically in their backyard.

There'd also been two young women who'd vanished within weeks of each other, last seen as some heavily populated nightspot in the city. Nearly everyone in the club, their friends included, hadn't taken notice of when the women had left the club and disappeared. They'd never been found and while the authorities were convinced Amy had a hand in their disappearance, they had nothing to link her to them. Of the seven murders she'd been brought up on charges for, the bodies of only three of her victims had been found while the rest had been linked through forensic evidence. Everyone involved with investigating the crimes had been certain Amy was behind the disappearance of these two women. They fit Amy's victim profile, they were last seen in an area that the police had determined was the center of Amy's primary hunting grounds and had disappeared in plain sight from a crowded establishment. Amy apparently had enjoyed this risky endeavor, almost always choosing and luring victims away from crowded areas. Literally out in the open with hundreds of eyes, but managing to slip away unnoticed with her prey.

Taking a breath, Alec started into a casual walk down the mostly overgrown trail. He could overthink it all or just go into the woods and check out the creek bank himself. If the police had found anything that was connected to Amy and the family, no doubt they would have been knocking in their door to talk. So it was safe to assume that whatever happened out by the creek had shit to do with Amy or the Niccals clan. He couldn't imagine Amy being ballsy enough to hide bodies on the property. Given the strange, twisted admiration and love she had for their father, doing such a thing would have brought great risk to him and the family. She wouldn’t have been that careless. At least, he didn’t think she would be. Even being off her fucking rocker, surely she would have known that concealing bodies on the property was an idiotic move. Not if she didn’t want their Dad implicated in some way. Alec allowed his thoughts to wander as he strolled down the path. He just had to be over-thinking the police tape. Perhaps some punk kid had fled through the woods with stolen loot and had dropped some of it. That certainly seemed plausible.

Continuing down the path, he cast a passing glance at the purple ribbon and the carving on the side of the now massive oak. There were other things that told of the family's presence, now hidden by overgrowth and time. Alec smiled to himself as he followed the path towards the creek. It was about a quarter of a mile into the woods and as he ventured further in, the darker it was becoming. Between the massive canopy of trees above and all the other foliage, the sun was blotted out almost completely down at ground level. Slivers of sunlight broke through here or there, but it was otherwise dark. As he progressed, he took note of how much darker and colder it was getting. Okay, so was this some natural phenomenon or was there something more sinister at play here? It had to be a natural occurrence. Their family had lived on this property for the better part of fifty years and the trees had been massive and ancient even when he'd been just a kid. It was a given there'd be some changes, yeah? Not to mention, it was probably close to dusk. The more the sun vanished behind the trees, the cooler it became down at ground level.

Eventually he found himself at the main clearing, catching a glimpse of the yellow tape still tied to the two birch trees that flanked the opening to the creek. The scraps of yellow tape now seemed more aged and tattered since the last time he'd clapped eyes on them mere days ago. It was significantly darker in the clearing now and he found himself pausing just outside the opening the creek. Now just mere feet away. He could smell the water and hear the low plunking trickle as it traveled off into the darkness. Alec's eyes fell to the yellow police tape. It seemed older and more degraded but was it possible this was just a trick of the shadows? The sand between the two birch trees dropped off just beyond them and as Alec climbed up into the sand between them, he noted that there was a significant drop just ahead, most of the opening now washed away from years of the creek rising and falling with the winter months and heavy rains. Several feet below, the embankment looked churned up, but otherwise not much different than the hundred of other times he'd laid eyes on it through-out his life.

There was something down in the sand right at where the bank had washed away, but Alec couldn't make out what it was. Something only partially visible, a splash of faded blue and nothing more. Alec was curious but seeing that getting to it would be difficult to reach, decided against retrieving it. Most likely rubbish or something the local wildlife had left behind. The churned up sand was most likely due to wildlife also. Evidence of animals was a given near a water source. Hell, he could even recall when Dad had dragged them all out of bed because he’d wanted to show them the animal prints that were embedded into the sand one morning. Funny how he remembered that. He’d been so mad at Dad for waking them all up in his excitement. Looking back now, it was actually – in a weird way – endearing. Murdoc had never had such direct access to nature growing up so he'd been super excited about finding the various paw prints and hoof prints and had wasted no time running back to the house to get them all up and drag them back in their pajamas. Mum too, who’d been just as irritated with him for waking her up. Christ, the brain was definitely a strange organ. Thanks to all this craziness, he was remembering things he never thought he'd remember again. And though faded, he could remember that particular morning because while he’d been mad about being dragged from bed, once they’d seen the tracks, Dad’s excitement had been contagious. Alec had actually been delighted in spying all these snapshots of nature that they would never have had access to if they’d lived in the city. A pleasant memory of he and his sister strolling with a still sleepy Mum and excitable Dad to the creek to look at the prints. How old had they been? Young, no doubt. It was most likely was before Amy witnessed their parents' atrocities, so she would have been two or three while he'd been just a little older.

Mist could be seen drifting through the trees. Alec drew back from the opening to the creek, stumbling back into the clearing. This was stupid of him. It was well past dusk now and here he was a good quarter mile in the woods where there was little to no light left. Aside from the bubbling of the creek, it was silent all around him. Hairs stood on end when he realized he was hearing the rustling of brush coming from the darkness of the trees. Something moving quickly and almost clumsily. He was frozen in place, ears pricked for every little sound that reached him. The breeze as it move through the leaves above, the rustling of brush below. The sounds of the creek seemed to disappear the further he moved into the clearing. Someone or something was moving through the undergrowth and as he strained his ears, he could almost hear labored breathing. He remained firmly planted in the clearing, listening around him as the rustling of foliage seemed to move erratically through the dark woods. Whatever it was he was hearing, it was struggling desperately. Panting, labored breathing and whimpers could be heard as it struggled through the undergrowth and foliage.

Breathe, he reminded himself as he focused on the direction the sounds were coming from. Just fucking breathe. Probably a stag. Sounded big enough. He knew he didn't believe this. Not with everything else he'd seen and heard as of late. Whatever it was, it was shifting direction and moving towards him now. Alec slowly backed himself against a tree, eyes fixed on the darkness that surrounded him. The thing in the woods was moving quicker now, almost rushing through the brush. Alec realized he could hear other noises through the crashing and crunching of the undergrowth. There was additional movement coming from the direction of the house. The same sounded of movement through the brush only quieter. It was difficult to determine the source, but Alec was certain he could hear several things moving through the trees. The closest of them sounded like it would reveal itself at any time, the noises sounded just that close.

Still pressed against the tree, Alec uttered a whimper when a figure emerged from the darkness. It didn't take long to determine the shape to be human. And this figure was struggling, hunched over and panting as it staggered clumsily into the clearing, revealing itself to be the Alicia woman. Or what was left of her, it appeared. Alec's whimper turned to a whine as he took in the phantom figure that stood mere feet away from him, panting and sobbing as she struggling through the trees. Dark as it was, he could see her clear as day, almost glowing as she slumped down into the brush. One of her eyes were missing, her mouth cut in a grotesque smile, her face coated in blood from the chin down. She was covered in welts and cuts, her clothing so bloody he couldn't tell where her jeans ended and shirt began. Staggering forward, she sank down into the leaves, sobbing through her heavy breathing. It occurred to Alec that he could still hear things moving through the brush, hidden in the darkness that surrounded them. Alicia appeared to hear it as well, her head jerking up when the sounds started moving towards them. “No,” she moaned through the blood as she struggled to get back to her feet. “No, no, no...”

Alec continued to watch her, his heart pounding in his chest as the distant movement from the trees got closer and closer. Alicia was hearing it too and clearly alarmed as she scrambled to her feet and staggered another few yards before collapsing again. From the darkness, he could still hear the movement and another sound that sent tremors down his spine and goosebumps breaking across his skin. Laughter. He could hear laughter. A deep, chortling and menacing laugh. His father's laugh. He'd heard his father's laugh countless times through his life and yet this time, the sound of it paralyzed him. Everything about that laugh screamed _danger_. He couldn't recall any time before where he'd feared his father and yet the sound of that laughter echoing through the woods caused every hair on his body to stand on end and the fight or flight response to rear its ugly head. And the source of that laugh was now moving quickly through the brush in pursuit of its target – Alicia.

Alicia cried out, dragging herself on all fours across the ground. Alec pressed his back to the tree as hard as he could, watching as the bloodied woman struggled through the leaves, half sobbing and half moaning. The sounds of her pain tore at Alec's very core, but he was unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of the bloodied woman as she dragged herself across the ground. He could still hear the movements from the darkness of the trees around them and it was now accompanied by faint whispers. There was more than one. A pit opened up in his stomach as he listened to the sounds around them. The rustling and crunching of the leaves and shrubs on the ground was too loud to be only one person. He should have known this the moment he'd heard it. Alicia wasn't just being pursued by his Dad. Mum was here too. “Fuckin' unreal,” he whispered hoarsely. Mere days ago, he'd witnessed Alicia's phantom rushing into the trees with his mother hot on her heels. They'd hunted her. Taunted her. Terrorized her in her feeble attempts to escape through a patch of woods his parents had known like the back of their hands. He couldn't understand why this fucking bothered him so much considering how much Dad had shared regarding their crimes. The old man had admitted to killing at least two different people. And the old man had admitted to getting off on watching Mum torture their victims. Finding out they'd set her loose into the woods to hunt her down like a pack of rabid wolves shouldn't have come as a surprise! The more he learned about what took place in this home so long ago, the more he realized just how little he knew his parents. Dad had made it sound like it was mostly Mum who took control when it came to the murders, but witnessing the things he'd witnessed now made him question this. Both of them were in the woods stalking the woman, but it had been his Dad's chilling laugh he'd heard. A laugh that was meant to strike fear in the victim who struggled desperately through darkness and brush to escape from her captors.

Alicia turned to look behind her, a shriek rising from within that pierced the night air. Alec watched helplessly as she scrambled to her feet and managed to hobble another several yards before a shadow figure burst out of the trees and tackled her to the ground. Alicia was abruptly yanked to her feet by the shadow figure and dragged backwards to the far side of the clearing. It seems strange that he was seeing this and yet neither Alicia or the shadow figure gave him any notice. They weren't seeing him. Was it because this had taken place so many years ago and he'd been just a little kid? He was clearly witnessing a series of events that had taken place on the property – a series of events that took place five decades ago. It made the most sense, really. As far as the crazy shit he'd witnessed through the house, these events had taken place at a time he'd never have known about them. They weren't seeing him because when they'd taken place, he hadn't been there. He'd been a kid, most likely tucked away in his bed none the fucking wiser of the monsters that had been unleashed. He focused on the shadow figure as it wrestled with the Alicia woman. He could hear Alicia's cries and labored pants and grunts. Shadow arms were wrapped tight around the woman as it attempted to drag her back into the darkness of the woods.

Alec continued to stare, unable to move from where he stood as another shadow figure stepped into the clearing. The shadow that still held Alicia flickered like a movie reel out of focus, the grunts and labored breathing revealing itself as his father. Alec's mouth felt dry as he watched the other shadow figure circle around Alicia as she sobbed uncontrollably. The other one was no doubt his Mum. Dad held Alicia while Mum continued her sadistic torture. Alicia screamed when the shadow figure that held her re-positioned its arms, pinning her hard against him. The shadow that circled her now lashed out and cuts appeared on Alicia's bared arms. Still screaming, Alicia struggled desperately to get free. Another cut and another. Above the sounds of her cries, laughter could be heard. Two distinct laughs. Echoing around him as if they didn't have a place. His Mum's voice broke through, disembodied and most likely nothing more than an imprint in time. _Let's get her back inside so we can tie her up, and then you and I can finish what we started...unless you want to fuck right here?_

Exhaling, Alec blinked and uttered a low gasp when he realized he was now alone in the clearing. He was the only one there now. The phantom and shadow monsters were gone. Jesus fucking Christ, he was shaking now. The air around him was completely still. He was without a doubt alone now. He pried himself from the tree, dully noting that he'd clutched at the sides of the tree so hard he had imprints of it on his hands. Everything was coming clear now. His parents were psychopaths. Never mind that his Dad had tried to explain it to him and their reasons, what he'd just witnessed went beyond whatever flimsy bullshit reasons his Dad had given him. They'd kidnapped the woman responsible for Alec's injuries, somehow managed to drag her back to London and spent days torturing her and tormenting her. Setting her loose into the woods had been a risky move on their part, but they'd jumped in with both feet, overzealous in their lust to hurt her any way they could. Part of him reasoned that he couldn't really blame them for making her final days a living hell, but another part of him revolted against this idea. They'd played with fire bringing her back and keeping her alive for so long. Their desire to make her pay had gone from vengeance to some christ-awful sick sex play. If it had truly been about making her pay, why terrorize her as they did? Dad had placed most of the blame on Mum. But based on what Alec had seen, it was clear that both had truly gotten off on their torture of the woman. Not just Mum, but Dad also.

He wasn't sure how, but he was already at the edge of the trees and looking at the house just ahead. He couldn't even remember making his way down the trail, but he'd been moving on auto-pilot. He wanted clear of the woods and whatever other secrets they might reveal. He didn't want any part of it. Dad had admitted to weird shit when it had come to the murders, but Alec hadn't been prepared for what he'd witnessed. And to think nobody ever linked them to anything. How the hell did something like that happen? By the time Alicia had vanished, those closest to her knew she'd been practically stalking his parents. Hell, them shutting up shop and bouncing back to England around the time her and another woman had vanished should have been a massive red flag to whomever had been investigating the disappearances. And cold case or not, one couldn't look the other way when someone else looking into the disappearance ends up disappearing themselves. His parents had not only killed two women without anyone suspecting them, they'd even managed to kill the private investigator hired to look into Alicia's disappearance.

Alec wasn't sure what horrified him more at this point. Knowing they'd gotten their rocks off on torturing and murdering another human being or knowing that two of their victims were buried on the property somewhere. The other thing that plagued Alec was the burning question of whether there had been more victims than just the three. Dad only confessed to a few and the old man had even joked about how Mum would never seek it out but couldn't resist something dropping on their doorstep. For all Alec knew, Mum had gone out to seek her twisted gratification unbeknownst to Dad. If she'd been anything close to what Amy had become, surely there'd been more victims! But even as he thought this, he realized that maybe Dad had been right. Mum wouldn't have sought it out due to the risk it would have brought to their family. Protecting the family had been her primary objective in everything. Dispatching Chloe for orchestrating the kidnapping, Alicia for the harm she'd caused Alec when he'd been just a wee one and taking out the private investigator because he'd gotten too close to finding out they were behind Alicia's disappearance. The fact that both his parents had totally gotten their jollies in doing so had been a small perk in the grand scheme of it all. The end game of their actions had been to protect themselves and their kids. He couldn't fault them for that, but how does one explain finding out their parents had kept someone prisoner in their home for days as they tortured them, fucked one another relentlessly, and eventually made some sick game out of their crime?


	6. Part VI

Alec's eyes snapped wide open as he sat up abruptly in bed, the scream dying in his throat. His breathing was rapid and shallow, his body still shaking as he took in the familiar surroundings of his bedroom. Blurred, violent images danced in his head as they faded out from his memory. Though he _knew_ something horrifying had happened in this nightmare, he could never piece together just _what_ was happening upon waking. As soon as his eyes opened, the images faded out into nothingness and he was left sweating and shaking and unable to recall what had led to this. Were they nightmares about the phantoms that plagued him in this house or was it something else? He didn't know the answer to this, everything about the nightmare now gone completely other than some vague and blurred memory of running across grass. He couldn't place when or where, just running. Still breathing heavily, he scrubbed his hands across his face and slowly got out of bed. He could hear Tess downstairs as she did her morning routines as well as Lexi saying something to her Mum that he couldn't quite make out.

The day was about to start all over again and Alec wasn't sure just what the hell to do at this point. He couldn't even really place just _when_ he had started to figure things out. Had it been mere days or had weeks gone by with the same bullshit over and over again? And how long had it gone on before he started to take notice? Of course he had no way of answering this because he couldn't piece enough of it together. He knew he'd done various projects around the house, but each morning had started out the same. A nightmare he could never remember upon waking, the same conversation starting every morning once he was at the table with Tess, catching signs of his kids through-out the house but never seeing either of them, and then on to avoiding the first project that sprang to his head – cleaning the tiled patio and renting the brush mower so he could clear the overgrowth from the back property.

He dressed himself into some regular lounge-clothes and padded across the room and out the door into the hallway. In his head, he knew what the plan of action was regarding the house and property, but always deviated from the plan in favor of something less strenuous. And when he made a point to do something different, that was when the house reacted. That was what led to seeing all the weird things. Always when he opted to do different projects instead of the list of projects he'd originally had planned for the day. The day was supposed to start with him cleaning the patio and then picking up the machine rental so he could clear the brush and overgrowth. From there, he was going to tackle the detached garage and clear out some of his parents' old belongings that held no sentimental value and they'd had no use for. After that, the plan had been to paint the front fence and use the power washer to clean the grey stone exterior of the house. All of these were projects he knew he was going to do. But instead of diving headlong into these few projects that would have taken up his entire day, he'd opted to tackle smaller projects that had been on his to-do list but not things he'd planned out for that day. Fixing the toilet in the basement apartment had been a project he'd planned to assign to Ben when he'd arrived. Taking out the walls of the study had been a project he wasn't planning until another day or two.

How else could it all be explained? Every time he changed the course of the day, the house reacted in ways that were visually terrifying. There were only so many logical explanations to this and he still wasn’t a hundred percent convinced this wasn’t all some weird coma-nightmare he couldn’t escape. The house didn't really react when he suggested selling it, it had simply been a nightmare that felt real enough to confuse him. The house never shook, trembled or vibrated. The basement hadn't been their sickening playroom in decades so seeing it flicker between cleanliness and something out of one of the _Saw_ flicks had been nothing more than another nightmare, probably stemming from what his father had told him some years prior. None of these things had happened. He had to convince himself of this. Why else would it only happen to him with nobody else seeing what he was seeing?

How many days had it been now? Three? Four? He'd completely lost track of how long this had been going on. It only fed into his shaky belief that everything happening was nothing more than some nightmare he couldn't wake from. Why else would every day start out the same? Why else would he know just what needed to be done before the day even started? Still lingering in the hallway, Alec looked around slowly. Everything his eyes drifted across was familiar and known. The photos on the walls were of him and his family. His kids, his wife. Only one or two remained that had been placed there by his parents. Childhood snaps of him with his parents or Tess with hers. Nothing out of the ordinary. This made him suddenly think about the mystery child and the boxes of photos that showed a vastly different home. When he'd seen the girl that one morning, had he bothered to take note of what photos were on the walls? He remembered the ghastly colors used, but little else. Had their been pictures up or no? He shook his head and descended the stairs to the kitchen. So far everything looked as it should. The table in the kitchen was their table, the pictures on the walls were of them and their family, and the kitchen still had the same dated appliances, cupboards and countertops. So far so good, yeah? Nothing out of the ordinary as he crossed through the kitchen towards the brewing coffee-maker. Was it possible he'd finally awaken from the nightmare? Everything felt normal and he could no longer feel the low quiver of panic in his gut that had plagued him for what had felt like days.

Tessie emerged from the lounge with her mug of coffee in hand, clad in soft pajamas with her dark hair tied up into a sloppy and wild pony-tail in the back of her head. Alec merely regarded her as he went to fixing his own cup. She took her seat at the kitchen table, nursing her coffee gently as she began to flip through the morning paper. “Sleep well?” she asked casually.

“Suppose,” he muttered gruffly as he dropped into his own chair at the table. “An'thin' good in the paper t'day?” When her eyes surfaced from the paper, he flashed a quick smile at her. “It's been slow news the last week or so,” he added as he took another drink from his coffee.

“Nothin' of interest really,” she said through a sigh, dropping her eyes back to the paper. “Few sales at the market...some government bullshit. Not much else.”

Alec grunted in response as he nursed his coffee. He found himself scanning her over and admiring how she looked. If you'd asked him, she hadn't aged one bit since the day they had gotten married. She was pushing fifty, but aside from some scattered grey hair, not much else told of her age. Alec couldn't even brag about that seeing that he'd been going grey since his thirties. His beard was steel grey, most of the hair on his head was grey other than some streaks of brown here and there and his stomach rested uneasily over his belt. His thoughts wandered to other small observations of his aging physique. Though he was still within range of normal for weight, the spare tire he'd acquired was noticeable. He'd also taken notice of minor aches and pains from just moving from point A to point B as well as a back that screamed at him for sleeping wonky as well as trying to lift shit he had no business trying to lift. Still sitting at the table and mulling over the bullshit of getting older, he could almost hear another voice in his head screaming at him to _focus_. Focus on what exactly? He was warm, comfortable, the coffee was delicious, the nightmares were disappearing into the back recesses of his mind to be forgotten, now little more than blurry snapshots that faded further and further away from his memory. And eventually he would get moving and start getting things done in the back part of the property. He had to power wash the tiles and pick up the brush mower from the equipment rental place.

_Christ on a cracker, man, focus!_

Sighing, he drained his coffee and pushed the cup aside. He stared at the battered black coffee mug, realizing something wasn't feeling quite right. His thoughts traveled to his not-so-recent visit to Amy over at Rampton. Why was he thinking about her again now? He'd handled his obligations in that regard. Presented Amy with the documents their father had stressed were strictly for her. His duty to her was over. He'd informed her of their parents' passing and had provided her with what was rightfully hers per their parents' wills. She'd asked him about Lizzie. It had left him little choice but to tell her the infant had passed away decades ago. He'd felt horrible for breaking all of this onto her, but what else was he supposed to fucking do at this point? She'd lived in some sort of fantasy land and had spent two decades believing her parents had taken the abomination in with open arms. He was no longer going to continue to evade her inquiries or give her vague sugar coated lies. For a split second, he actually pondered over filing a grievance with the medical board over the doctor assigned to her in the hospital. Just what kind of quack continues to feed into a patient's delusion? Of course, it really didn't matter now. He'd done what he'd been tasked to do and now he could return his focus on his home and his family.

_Focus! Bloody hell, get your shit together and focus!_

Fucking hell, what in the world was going on in his fucking head? He'd done his duties, now let him carry on with his life. He wanted nothing more to do with Amy. He'd done what was necessary so let him carry on and enjoy his life. There was nothing left for him to do regarding that woman. So exactly _what_ was he supposed to focus on and why? Though he was distinctly aware that something just felt a bit _off_ , he couldn't place just what it was. Important things that he’d been thinking about shortly after waking but could now no longer remember. As if his memory had been completely wiped. Why couldn't he remember anymore? Had they been nightmares? Why was it important enough to nag at him, but not important enough to remember? Everything looked normal, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something _very_ important to these weird sensations and he should listen to whatever his mind and body were telling him.

“Earth t' Alec....hello out there?” Tessie's voice broke through his trailing thoughts. Blinking, he turned his attention to her, flashing a small smile of his own. She didn't smile back. If anything, she looked concerned. “Is ever'thin' a'right?” she asked finally.

Alec gave a curt nod. “Sorry....Just lot on m' mind this mornin'. Still not quite sure the whole Amy thin' was handled right. The one time I catch her on a good day an' I unloaded all that shit on her.” Something about the words that had tumbled out of his mouth triggered numerous alarms in his head. Why did it feel like something was out of place with all of this? Why did it feel like he’d had this conversation before? Had he? This alarm seemed tied to whatever it was he’d been thinking about when he’d first opened his eyes this morning. He’d been thinking hard about something, something that had required his full attention but now could no longer remember. He could almost hear that distant voice in the back of his head screaming that he needed to pay attention, needed to focus on what was going on and remember to _not_ fall into the routine.

 _Fall into the routine_? What did that mean exactly?

Tessie uttered a small sigh and set her coffee down. “Look, I know you were never on board with how your parents handled the situation with your sister...but it is what it is.” She took another drink from the mug and dropped her eyes to the open paper in front of her. “This was how they chose t' handle it, Alec. Whether good or bad, that's between them an' whatever deities exist beyond our realm.”

“She's sick,” he said in a matter of fact tone. “An' Dad recognized this long before she did what she did.” He got to his feet with his mug still in hand as he turned towards the coffee maker and grabbed the half full carafe. “He _knew_ somethin' was wrong with her. An' he somehow covered it up. Hid it from ever' one. Mum was sick, too, y'know. Sick like Amy.” Paused at the coffee-maker with the carafe half shoved into the hot plate, Alec frowned. deja vu again, yeah? Had they had this conversation before? Why did it seem familiar to him? Check it out, he's living his own glitch in the Matrix. He almost laughed aloud at his last thought as he rammed the carafe back onto the hot plate and returned to his chair. “Only Mum had control over it, knew what she needed t' keep it in check...” 

Tessie made a noise, setting her mug down abruptly. “Alec, you can't possibly be comparin' your Mum's problems with Amy's. It's apples an' oranges!” She sounded disgusted and angry, as if his words were the ultimate insult. “Your Mum was sick, yes, but she was nothin' at all like how Amy turned out.”

Alec opened his mouth to speak, still feeling like he was experiencing deja vu. He'd definitely had this conversation before! Fucking verbatim, it seemed. And why couldn't he silence the voice in the back of his head that kept insisting something was terribly wrong and he needed to _focus_? There was obviously a reason for this nagging feeling that something had gone completely amiss. Just what was he supposed to focus on? He had a massive list of chores to complete, starting with power washing the tiled patio and scrubbing down the patio furniture. He had to get to the rental place to pick up the brush mower so he could tackle the overgrowth that had become their back yard. He took a drink from his coffee and sighed loudly. “You dun' know the thins' I know, Tess. Mum an' Amy were two sides of the same coin. Mum jus' had a better grip on thins'. Amy jus' let it run wild.” His mind trailed back to the medical records he'd found in the safe. He'd pored over those records, over analyzing every word, every sentence. Poor Mum had been as damaged and broken as Amy had been. Her abuse had been the catalyst, triggering something from within that defied rhyme, reason or any kind of morality. Whatever darkness his parents had buried within themselves had found home in Amy Niccals. Dad had put it in the easiest of perspectives. _She was every dark an' nasty part your Mum an' I harbored within ourselves. Amy was our worst halves_.

Couldn't deny the obvious, yeah? His parents' childhoods had been utterly destroyed and it had led to them becoming broken adults by the time they'd come across each other. It was a given that this damage got passed on to the next generation. Their abuses practically ingrained into their DNA. Add in some resentment towards a society that insisted they conform along with a splash of murderous rage and you had the perfect mix of dynamite waiting to explode. Murdoc and Hailey had been wolves in sheep's clothing as they moved through the world, literally one step away from blowing up at a society that not only discarded and abandoned them, but also expected them to suck it up and be just like everyone else. Alec's disabilities had probably protected him because it brought out his parents' more nurturing sides as well as the rabid over-protectiveness that both he and Amy knew too well. Alec could also acknowledge that their parents had hyper-focused on him and his disabilities, leaving Amy to feed a burning resentment towards him and their parents for what she perceived as neglect on their part.

Welcome to the Niccals family, mates! We put the _fun_ in _dysfunction_!

The pressure of Tessie's hand on his shoulder slammed him back into himself. Enough about Amy and enough about his parents. He had things he needed to do and sitting at the table procrastinating wasn't getting them done. Whatever it was he was forgetting would probably make itself known to him later. He had to drag the power washer from the garage and fire that bitch up and get to work. The back property alone would take most of the day and this wasn't including however long it would take to go into the city to pick up the rental equipment. Rising from the table, he drained what remained of his coffee and turned towards the stairs. Change out of his sleep-clothes, toss on some old work clothes and get crackin'. Shit wasn't going to do itself.

******************

The vacuum cleaner could be heard just above the grinding motor of the power-washer. Alec took his time clearing the decades of grime and vegetation that had started to grow on the tiles and in the grout itself. It was surreal watching it wash away, revealing the glistening slate tile. As Alec worked his way slowly across the expanse of patio, he was amazed at the difference. There were some cracks here and there and even some chips around the edges, but otherwise the patio was starting to look as good as the day his parents had it laid down. He was honestly surprised the patio tiles had lasted so long, especially considering the level of neglect it faced once his parents were too old to really keep up with it. Alec had successfully washed away at least a solid thirty years of build up in under forty-five minutes. It was difficult to not admire how great the patio looked now. Almost like new, yeah?

Content with the results, he shut down the power-washer. The table and chair set was already cleaned off, ready to be set out onto the patio. The rest of the back property still needed to be mowed down and the equipment he'd rented to cover that chore was sitting in the detached garage. There was still a great deal to do before the day was out, but the one project that seemed to nag at him the most was finally out of his hair and he could move on to other things. Once the yard was mowed down and restored as much as possible, he'd move on to clearing out the garage. By the time he finished that, Ben would be arriving in time to help him tackle the study and pin-point where the water was coming from. Might also wrangle the lad’s help in tackling that wonky toilet in the basement apartment. Who was he kidding at this point? He would need Ben’s help to cover the rest of the various tasks he had on his agenda. Could give him a call and see if he was willing to hang out the rest of the day and give his old man a hand, eh? Offer cash and food. Bring a few mates along, while you’re at it. The sooner they could get this tackled, the better and then it would be out of their hair.

He made his way towards the detached garage to put the power washer away and retrieve the brush mower. The back of the property was so overgrown, the grass and weeds were hip high. Probably harboring half of the woods' small wildlife population. He didn't feel like getting spooked by some random garden snake or mouse trying to escape the mower but had little choice in the matter. Granted, the noise of the machinery alone would prob drive them out in droves once he fired it up and started. Shame he had to disrupt their homes, but the back property was long overdue. He and Tess had been staring at it since they'd moved into the house, both lacking the motivation for far too long to tackle it. Procrastination had never been a thing for them but given just how much they’d had on their plate when it came to the house and all of his parents' final wishes, the back property just hadn't been at the top of their lists.

Who was he kidding? None of the shit the house needed had even been a blip on their radar until maybe the last few weeks. They'd lived in the home and allowed it to fall into disrepair and neglect for months. Alec could justify it to a point – they'd been hit with a curve-ball losing both his parents in such close succession. And then there was tackling his parents' final affairs. They'd barely had time to mourn, really. First Mum, then Dad a week or so later and suddenly Alec was tackling solicitors, tax collectors and every other leech that came out of the woodwork for their piece of the pie. Was it any wonder they’d decided to turn a blind eye to the negligent state of the house and property for as long as they had? Alec hadn’t been in any shape to even consider the repairs and upkeep, too caught up in his own whirlpool of emotions. Mourning the loss of both parents, dealing with the solicitor who’d handled their wills and other estate business, fighting off the government officials wanting their tax, butting heads with the different art and music memorabilia collectors who had hoped they could butter him up with large sums of money for his father’s guitars, awards and whatever else the old man had accumulated through his life and career.

Wasn’t there a voice mail message on his phone from one of those fucking vultures? A few of them refused to give up and continued to hound him no matter how many times he’d told them to fuck right off and leave him be. He’d even learned from Ben that some had reached out to him in the hopes he had something of value. Obviously they were not interested in selling anything, no matter how much was offered. These were his father’s things. Things that had been special to the old man and highlights of his career. Why the hell did these scavengers think a paltry sum of money would entice him to part with these things? Even if Alec and Tess had been destitute, he wouldn’t have dreamed of selling anything.

Hauling out the brush mower and pushing it towards the back of the property, he was still unable to shake the whispers that something was amiss and he needed to focus. He didn’t know what he was supposed to _focus_ on, but it must have been important for it to continue to plague him long after his morning coffee with Tess. Focus, what did that mean? What was he supposed to focus on? Was it the growing list of chores and projects he and professionals would need to do with the property? He paused halfway across, staring around the property in confusion. Part of him nudged at him to continue forward but another part of him dug its heels in, almost insisting he put the brush mower away. Now why would he go and do that? Alec frowned, scratching at his head as he continued to look around in mild confusion. Something was pulling him from the task, something nagging at him to not fall back into the routines. He’d cleaned the patio and the patio furniture, so the next logical step was mowing down the overgrowth. Of course, he could derail from this and do something else, but it just made no sense to him why he was even seriously considering this. There was an ever growing list of things the house and property needed and he couldn’t keep putting it off. He’d already put it off for months as it was.

As if on auto pilot, he shoved the brush mower back to the garage. He wasn’t sure why he’d decided to do this, but something was insisting he do so. He thought back to the earlier part of the morning when he and Tess had been chatting over their coffee, much like his own parents had done. Though there was no way it could be possible, it felt like they’d had that conversation before. Not just a sentence here or there, but completely deja vu of the entire conversation. Realization that they’d indeed had the conversation before but having no idea how he knew this. His brow furrowed as he shoved the brush mower aside and stared around the cluttered garage. Murdoc’s old Vauxhall sat in one stall, covered with an aging car cover. The other stall of the two car garage was vacant save for some boxes and a few other yard tools. They’d sold off Hailey’s car shortly after his father had passed. Alec and Tess had no need for it seeing they had their own vehicles, but Alec had kept the Vauxhall thinking maybe it would make a fun little project for him to tinker around with. He tore his focus from the covered convertible, landing at the vacant stall that had a handful of boxes set aside. He approached the boxes slowly, recognizing quickly that they were various shelving and brackets. Murdoc had some of the bass guitars on special brackets that allowed him to hang them from the wall. The one box appeared to have several more and some other bits and pieces of shelving. He’d been pondering over hanging a few of the guitars around the house, right? He could do that and then get to work with the brush mower. It was hot as hell anyway and this way he could tackle it once the sun set behind the trees and temperature came down a bit.

Carrying the box, he slipped out of the garage and briskly walked down the gravel drive and towards the back. He could no longer hear the vacuum from inside the house. There was no way Tessie was finished with that because she’d just started when he’d been nearly done with the patio and she was working from the upper level down. A lot of times he usually would take over and finish the main level. Setting the box down, he started to walk around the back towards the French doors. “Tess, ever’thin’ ‘kay in there?” When he received no response, he stepped through into the house and looked around. The main level of ghostly quiet and he could feel some of his nerve wavering as he stepped through the kitchen and into the sitting room. “Tess?” he called out again and frowning when only more silence greeted him. He mounted the stairs and paused once he reached the top, staring at the partially open door that led into what had once been Amy’s room. He peered down the hall briefly before stepping closer to the room. Giving the partially open door a nudge, it swung open soundlessly followed by a faint thump from the knob hitting the rubber stopper used to keep the door from damaging the wall.

They’d removed the old furniture and had even repainted the lavender walls, but the room he stood in looked no different than when he’d been a child. The walls no longer the beige white they’d painted but now the soft caramel color the room had once been before Dad had painted the room lavender. The bedroom furnishings were plain white wood, not the simple oak set they’d put into the room. The captain’s bed neatly made and covered with a few plushies. Alec shook his head, looking around the room in dismay. He could hear whispers of warning in the back of his head, still reminding him that he needed to focus and not fall into routine. He still didn’t understand what this meant, but he was too focused on the fact that this bedroom, which he _knew_ he and Tess had cleared out and repainted, now looked no different than it did when he and his sister had been small.

Stepping out of the rooom, he veered down the hallway and paused outside the bedroom door that led to what had once been his bedroom. Lexi’s stuff should be in here. She’d claimed the room as her own, much like Ben had as a child and himself. Alec took a breath and pushed the door open, groaning loudly in the quiet hall when he realized he was seeing his superhero posters on the walls and his toys littered across the bed and floor. No, this wasn’t right. This should be covered floor to ceiling with that god-awful boy band Lexi fancied. Her little music player should be on the window sill, not the aging boom box with the wonky tape deck his Dad had dug out of storage for him to use. His stuff had been long ago boxed away or sent off to the local thrift shop once he’d outgrown them. There was no reason whatsoever for this room to have even a scrap of his stuff. He scanned the room over carefully, exhaling as he stepped back and pulled the door shut. This meant the master suite should be his parents’ room still. If the room by the stairs was Amy’s and the room two doors down was his then this meant he would open up the master suite door and find his parents bedroom furnishings and their belongings scattered about.

His hand lingered on the doorknob and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He remembered now why the voice in the back of his head kept saying to focus. He’d allowed himself to get swept up into the routines and seemingly forgot everything that had happened prior to that moment he’d stepped into the kitchen after waking and claiming his coffee. Pulled into the routines, forgetting nearly everything. How could he have forgotten the horror shows he’d seen? Had they been dismissed as nightmares? It seemed that once he’d been fully awake, everything had faded away, soon forgotten. Well, here he was now, bucking the routines again and the house was reacting. The house always reacted to the change of routine. He’d figured this part out, hadn’t he? This was why part of him kept insisting he didn’t fall back into the routine because he’d figured it out. He had a set plan for the day and he’d kept detouring off the plan to do something else. This had been what he led him to see the things he’d seen. He remained planted in place with his hand grasping the doorknob to his parents room, dreading what he might find. So far, there were no spirits, nothing too out of place other than the fact that the house had essentially reverted back to how it looked when he’d been small. This alone should probably bother him, but he actually was quite happy that this was all it was. Rather it be this than some bloodied spook popping up and scaring the life from him, right?

The sound of a window opened up hard enough to slam the frame made his freeze. He released the knob and turned back down the hall. That had come from downstairs, had it not? Whoever had done it had opened it so hard, it reverberated through the entire house. He could only mumble under his breath as he descended the stairs and froze up once he reached the sitting room and kitchen, not surprised that the entire house now looked as it did when he’d been young. The overstuffed chairs in the sitting room were the ones Murdoc and Hailey used when they’d wanted solitude to read. The kitchen was the same marbled yellow with the outdated appliances and countertops. A noise from the windows behind him made him turn with a start and he found himself staring at an unfamiliar man who looked about his age, maybe a little younger, climbing in through an opened window. Frosted hair swept back from his head that revealed a receding hairline and a bushy porn-stache on his face. The intruder removed his shoes and was now creeping around silently as he looked around. And though Alec was standing right there, it was clear the stranger did not appear to see him. Not that Alec expected him to, but he couldn’t deny how strange it was to stand there in the house with this man and realize the phantom wasn’t aware of his presence.

Alec backed into the wall as the strange man wandered through the sitting room to the kitchen. He was looking around cautiously, examining the pictures on the walls and various trinkets Hailey and Murdoc had collected for themselves. So far he’d seen the phantoms of the Alicia woman as she was being killed. Seen only when she’d been a prisoner in his parents’ basement playroom. This man, this strange man, was definitely another phantom, but he was merely walking through the house looking around. He wasn’t some bloody captive. Alec frowned as he dropped his gaze to the floor. When he’d been in the basement, there’d been a phantom on that table, a man. The private investigator his father had told him about. Flicking his eyes back up to the stranger prowling through the house, Alec uttered a strained groan. This was the private investigator! Why else would he be looking through their things but not taking anything? The man continued to browse through the house, even going up the stairs to the second level. It seemed stupid that the man thought he might find something that could link them to the Alicia woman’s disappearance from Seattle. At this point, it had been around six years or so, right?

The strange man appeared back on the main floor and began to check around the sitting room again, oblivious to Alec’s presence as he browsed through the bookshelves and eventually paused just outside the basement door. The man rattled the door a bit before looking up and seeing the padlock merely slung over the eyelet and not locked up like it normally was. He removed the padlock and pulled the door open, disappearing through the door, leaving the basement door wide open. Alec lingered at the doorway to the basement, wondering with a hint of amusement what the man thought of the little playroom his parents had set up. It was strange realizing their home had been invaded by this man. Dad never said the man had gotten into the house, though. Only said the man had managed to dig too close for comfort. Well, he definitely got too close. His parents had been insanely protective of their home and privacy. It was why their residence was unlisted and why his Dad had been so anal retentive about the rules of interviewing him. Having their personal space invaded like this would have probably sent them both into panic attacks.

Noise from the front got his attention. The jingle of keys and the sound of the front door opening up. Alec remained frozen in place, hearing his mother hiss at something to stay put. He found himself unable to move, merely watching as a shadow appeared across the floor followed by the light tap of feet. A very small Amy emerged from the kitchen, walking confidently over to the basement door and stopping just in front of him. He stared down at her, his throat dry and words dying at his lips. Why did having her there unsettle him so much? Was it because he knew what she’d become? And why was she coming through so clearly? Christ, why did it take him this long to notice? His parents had been shadow figures that flickered in and out of focus. The phantoms had been the ones to come through clearly. What did it mean now that he was staring at a very there four year old Amy? Had Dad been right this whole time? Had their Amy died that day? Though it made zero sense to Alec, he couldn’t deny the proof right in front of him. Just as he’d seen her that day in the basement. Alec had always assumed Murdoc had been metaphorical in his belief of Amy dying young, but she was right here and visible and this was definitely lending some truth to the man’s belief. Their Amy dying away, something darker taking her place.

Alec shifted, trying to step around the little girl. She inched closer to the doorway, peering down. He glanced over his shoulder and felt his breath catch when the man looked up. Of course, he wasn’t looking at Alec, he was looking at Amy. Hailey could be heard, barking at Amy to get away from the door. Amy took a step back, flicking her gaze up to Alec. All the hairs on his body stood on end when her gaze met his, the two staring at one another for a long moment before she broke away and darted back through the kitchen. From the basement, Murdoc’s voice could be heard before the sounds of someone dropping to the floor.

Alec let out a groan, his voice shaky as he sank back against the wall and slid to the floor. Christ, did that just happen? It didn’t seem possible considering all he’d seen over the past few days but there’d been no getting around that. She’d not only looked right at him, but she’d actually _seen_ him. He dragged his hands across his face and erupted into a bitter laugh. Just more fuckery upon more fuckery, eh? So he’d seen Amy clearly on two occasions when everyone else who’d lived on past these moments were little more than shadows to him. Both this incident and the incident where Amy had caught their parents had all happened within the same day. Chances were the private investigator was killed later in the evening, after he and Amy had gone to bed. All the times he’d seen Alicia, she was always in the same dismal shape. It was possible more was done, but from what he’d seen, it was always the same – missing eye, Glasgow Smile and numerous cuts. Was he seeing the last day they were alive? He wasn’t sure if this made sense or not, but he couldn’t shake the whispering voice in the back of his head pointing out that he was on the right track. So he was seeing the phantoms during the last day of their life. So did this also mean Murdoc had been right about Amy all along? Blinking, he looked up and felt his mouth go slack as he stared around the sitting room and saw the furnishings that he and Tess had set up in the room. His parents two chairs were gone, replaced with the minimalist modern shit he hated but Tess loved.

“Alec?” From upstairs came Tessie’s voice. He perked his head up again to see her as she descended the stairs. She paused at the foot of the steps, staring down at him slumped against the wall. “Alec, what happened? Are you ‘kay?” He shook his head in response, covering his face with his hands. There was no point even telling her anything because she wouldn’t believe him. She stepped closer and knelt down to his level. “Alec...what’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin’,” he mumbled. “Bit of vertigo or somethin’. Sat down so I wouldn’t fall.” Whether she believed it or not wasn’t a concern of his. He was done trying to explain it because she never saw what was happening. Whatever this was, it was between him and the secrets in this house. It was the only logical conclusion he could think of. Was it strange that he’d almost completely forgotten about everything earlier? Pulled into the routine of the day as if that was what he was supposed to be doing. Maybe that was the key to all of this. He wasn’t sure what it might mean but if detouring from whatever plans he had resulted in these strange phantoms, what would following through accomplish?


	7. Part VII

Don’t fall into the routines. Focus. Do the chore list as planned, but do not lose focus on why you’re doing it. Do not allow yourself to get pulled into the routines. Be mindful of why you’re doing it. These thoughts continued through Alec’s head like a mantra as he dragged the power washer back into the garage and grabbed the brush mower. Why was he now forgetting it once he woke up? He’d been waking up for days remembering everything clearly. Able to divert conversation, derail the routines he’d had planned. Remembering every horrifying thing he’d seen over the last several days. Had it been several days? With each day starting out the same, how could he know how many days this had been happening? Yet the last few times he’d opened his eyes, he could almost feel everything getting dragged back into the recesses of his mind, soon to be forgotten like that nightmare he could never remember upon waking. He had to struggle and fight to keep it all in the forefront of his mind. Why was he suddenly forgetting? Was something trying to make him forget? No, that didn’t make any fucking sense. Wake, coffee, same conversation with Tess that he’d been having every morning now, focus, remember what’s been happening. Don’t lose track of your thoughts.

He kept thinking back to that moment he had realized Amy was looking directly at him. Had he imagined that or had she really seen him? It didn’t seem possible though because every other apparition he’d come across had never taken notice of his presence and the shadow figures certainly hadn’t noticed him. So how could Amy have seen him? Perhaps it just seemed like she’d looked at him. This didn’t seem right because the strange woman he’d kept seeing roaming around the house had looked right at him and he could tell she’d been looking right through him. What about the little girl? She could always see him. He’d established that the apparitions he’d been seeing were seen during their final moments before dying. His parents were never visible because they passed decades later. The apparitions had only began to show themselves once he started messing up the daily routines. He’d had specific routines planned out and always diverted from them to do something else. The house reacted when he did something different. Always when he decided to change it up. Amy was visible but she wasn’t dead. He’d just seen her, alive and well into her late forties, only a few months ago.

Alec sighed, raking a hand through his greying hair. All he could do was continue moving forward with the day. Remind himself he needed to get through this. If deviating from the routines brought the phantoms out what would happen if he followed through with all the tasks he had planned for the day? So far nothing out of the ordinary was happening but he hadn’t gotten that far with the tasks either. He’d finished power washing the patio and next up was hauling out the brush mower he’d somehow rented, though he had no memory of calling in the rental or picking it up. From there, he’d get to work on some of the tasks in the house before hitting up the garage to sort through the boxes and see if there was anything remaining that they could either donate to charity or consider selling to those vulture collectors. Alec smiled grimly at this thought because everything that the collectors really wanted was still in the house itself. The boxes in the garage contained old clothes, photos, probably his parents’ old collection of sex toys and mainly just random junk. Well, collectors were a weird breed and maybe the sex swing would be a popular item? He laughed aloud as he dragged the brush mower across the yard.

Don’t lose focus, he reminded himself as he fired it up and started to push it through the overgrowth. Remember the plan. Don’t fall back into the routines or else you’ll forget. He took his time with the brush mower, momentarily amazed at how quickly it cleared the waist high grass and weeds. There were still little things he took notice of, like how the day started with him having that same conversation with Tess and then suddenly he would be outside getting ready to clean the patio. No memory of what happened in between, but he had to not think about any of that. Or how it felt like something was trying to shove his memories of everything away and out of mind. No, not gonna happen. He remembered. And he would keep it all at the front of his attention as he completed the tasks. He wasn’t sure what would be revealed but figured it was worth a shot. Get the yard cleared and then go fiddle around with the stuff in the house. Save the garage for last because he could also go through stuff in the house and see if they had anything that could be donated as well.

Why was he seeing Alicia and the private investigator but never his own parents? They’d died in the house the same as Alicia and the private investigator, so why not see them? His Mum had died on the sofa in the lounge and Dad had passed in his sleep in the master bedroom. Why wasn’t he seeing them mucking about in the house or something? This part made no sense to him, if there was any sense to what was happening. Shouldn’t he be seeing them also? He probably would welcome coming downstairs one morning to find their phantoms sitting at the table, nursing phantom coffee and flipping each other shit. What was the difference here? Was it the age old story about unfinished business or whatever it was called? He continued to mull over this as he pushed the brush mower through the yard. Maybe following through with the tasks would reveal the phantoms of his parents? Like some kind of warped video game where the final boss would be facing off against the elderly phantoms who had reigned over the house for decades. This thought made him chuckle to himself as he got the last patches of the back property cleared. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the pants!

He dragged the brush mower back towards the detached garage, shoving it into the vacant stall. After gathering up some tools he would need for the toilet repair, he turned to head towards the house. Tackle that leaking toilet down in the basement. He wasn’t a hundred percent on board with being down there alone but reminded himself that he was tackling the chores in the order he’d planned and if was guessing correctly, this meant he shouldn’t see anything while down there. Didn’t mean this would actually be the case but he had to get through all of this to see what happened. Part of him insisted nothing would happen and maybe he was truly mad, but he had to find out. He’d figured out that changing up the daily plans had been what brought the phantoms out. He’d figured out that he was most likely seeing them the last day they were alive. What else would he figure out if he went through everything. Would it explain the woman he’d seen in the house or even that little girl? Would it explain the police tape in the woods by the creek? He’d never been able to figure out those pieces of the puzzle.

Stepping in through the French doors, he could hear Tessie vacuuming upstairs still and this was music to his ears. Okay, so far so good. Everything appeared to be going as it should. Briskly walking through the lounge, he veered through the kitchen and into the sitting room, finally pausing just outside the basement door. What if it happened again? What would he do? He took a deep breath and opened up the door, stepping down slowly. Flicking on the light, he scanned around the narrow little apartment carefully. Okay, so it looked as it should. No weird funny business, okay? Just let me fix up this blasted toilet and I’ll be on my way. He weaved around the path he’d created days ago, pausing at the doorway to the little toilet closet. It was going to be a tight fit once he was on his back, but he could take a look and see if it was fixable or if he’d need to shut the water off to the toilet and ring a plumber.

The fittings were a lot more corroded than he anticipated, so he sighed and turned off the water line. Wouldn’t require a plumber, but he’d need to go to the hardware store at some point to pick up some replacement pieces. Could ring up Ben and see if he could stop and pick the parts up on his way down from Sheffield. Would certainly save him a trip. It would free up his time and he could tackle the other tasks he’d planned around the house. He’d found a box of shelving and wall brackets in the garage. One of the things he’d wanted to do was install some of the brackets and putting a few of the guitars on display around the house. The black bass his Dad had actually finished repairing would look great on the wall where the first landing was on the stairs. If the bass was as old as he thought it was, it could very well be one of the original bass guitars Murdoc had used while with Gorillaz.

Climbing out from beneath the toilet, he tucked away the tools and set the bag aside near the shower stall. Wouldn’t need those again until he was ready to fix the toilet and he had other tools up in the kitchen for hanging stuff up. Standing upright, he stepped out cautiously into the main part of the small apartment, dully aware that he could hear the light crackling. Alec froze in place, looking around quickly. He was unsure of what to expect. Would the light flicker and reveal more horrors or was this just a case of an old light? It hadn’t flickered or anything, just uttered a few spastic crackles. He exhaled slowly, barely aware that he’d held his breath. When the light did nothing more, he cross the distance of the small apartment to the stairs and went up as quickly as he could, mentally chastising himself for feeling those fleeting moments of fear. What had he been afraid of? Another bloody phantom materializing in the center of the apartment?

He chuckled to himself once he reached the main floor. That was _exactly_ what he’d been afraid of. Though nothing strange had happened since he started the tasks, there was still that residual fear these specters would appear no matter what he did. The basement had provided the biggest horror show out of everything, had it not? Closing the basement door, he continued to laugh to himself as he made his way towards the study. The black bass was still laying on the desk where he’d left it so he grabbed that and a bracket out of the box and sauntered towards the stairs, whistling to himself as he set the items on the landing and then went to hunt down the drill. He could still hear Tessie upstairs and this made him smile even more as he snatched the small drill from the back of the kitchen drawer. So far so good, eh? Get the bass up on the wall, see if there was space to put another one up in the lounge behind the bar. The green one would look great on that wall.

It didn’t take long to get the black bass up on the wall at the first stair landing and after giving the bass a good once over to ensure it would hold, grabbed the green bass and moved to the lounge with the extra bracket. Tessie emerged from upstairs just as he was setting the green bass into the bracket. He flashed a smile at her as he stepped back to look everything over. “Whadya think?”

“It’s lookin’ pretty good, Alec.” She circled around him, her eyes on the mint green bass. The green bass had been one of the last ones Murdoc had worked on and was still in need of strings, but Alec figured since it would be on display, the strings were unnecessary. She leaned in and examined it before turning her attention to him. “Did you get the downstairs toilet addressed?”

Alec grunted and nodded his head. “Err, for the moment. Needs some parts. Gonna ring Ben here in a moment an’ see if he can pick some up on his way down.”

“An’ the garage?”

“Next on the list, love,” he assured her.

Tessie flashed a smile, pressing up against him from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “It’s really startin’ t’ look good, Alec,” she whispered against his ear. He uttered a noise in response, grasping at one of her hands. Would the phantoms mind if he took twenty minutes to detour upstairs with her? Having her pressed so close was doing wonderful things to his imagination and part of him entertained the idea of dragging her upstairs for some afternoon delight. Christ, he wanted to so badly. Blood flow was definitely heading southbound. Though pleasant thoughts invaded his mind, part of him pointed out that it would be his luck he’d see some horrifying shit right when he was blowing his load.

Sighing, he gave her hand a squeeze and stepped away from her, massaging his groin and willing himself down. “Got any plans later?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I’m sure I can fit you in t’ my busy schedule,” she said through a snorting laugh. He watched as she disappeared through the kitchen and part of him chastised himself for not taking the chance. He never passed up a chance to squeeze a shag in but with all the weird shit happening around him, he wasn’t willing to have it ruined by some specter appearing just as he was hitting that wall. At least she wasn’t put off by his refusal. They both knew they had a lot on their plates today and getting stuff taken care of first was the more sensible approach. Besides, once he completed the tasks, he would then have her all to himself right?

Keeping all of this in mind, he ventured back outside towards the detached garage. It was approaching evening, the sun sinking behind the trees. He paused between the cottage and the garage to admire how great the back property now looked. Not a bad job, if he said so himself. He was actually quite happy nothing strange had happened at all through the day. He was still unsure of why they always appeared when he diverted from the day’s plans but maybe he would never figure that out. Just be glad that following the project list in the order he’d originally planned gave him relief from the horror shows the house wanted him to see. He could always check into the finer details later, right? He knew they showed up when he diverted from the order the tasks were to go in and he knew he was seeing these specters during their final moments alive. It didn’t explain the strange woman, the child or why he was able to see Amy so clearly, or even why she could see him, but part of him felt like this would all make itself known if he completed the tasks.

Opening up both stalls to the garage, he went to work pulling boxes aside and going through the ones that appeared to hold something interesting. He managed to find some old kitchen appliances Hailey had no longer had any use for, or perhaps it had become too difficult for her to use and Murdoc just didn’t know how to use them. Either one was a plausible option. Another box held tons of photographs and photo albums. This distracted him for the better part of a hour, sifting through the snaps with a smile. Photos of his parents with him as an infant, photos of them at the Paris flat as well as a few that were probably taken at the hotel suite they’d lived in prior to finding the cottage. Photos of him as a wee tot, smiling and always on the go. His smiled faltered when he came across photos that were clearly after the ill fated Seattle trip. He could see the fading bruises and the swollen eye. Could see the pain in his parents’ faces. Frowning, he set those aside and grabbed another stack of photos, struck briefly at the massive toothy smile on Murdoc’s face as he held what Alec realized was a newborn Amy. The man looked as if he were on cloud nine. Alec reasoned this was probably due to the fact they’d been terrified over the uncertainty of Amy’s paternity. Realizing she was indeed his probably lifted a lot of pressure off their shoulders. Looking even at the newborn, there was little doubt who her father was. This opened up a weird pit in Alec’s stomach as he sifted through a few more snaps of his parents with little Amy. Would her crimes have had the same impact if she had not been biologically related to their Dad?

Alec frowned as he stowed the photos back into the box and pushed it aside. He needed to finish going through this stuff. Figure out what they were going to save versus what would be heading to the local thrift shop or charity. Obviously they’d save the photos. No doubt Lexi or Ben may want them to pass on through time. Definitely get them out of the garage. He continued to rummage through the different boxes, finding various things he’d almost forgotten about. Toys, random articles of clothing, some of his Dad’s band t-shirts that both his Dad and Mum wore. A Rolling Stones shirt brought a smile to his face because he actually remembered when Murdoc had worn this. The dinner with Nina’s parents, which now felt like eons ago. He’d seen it worn a few other times through the years, but remembering seeing it on his Dad brought a smile to his face because there were still so many memories that didn’t come through clearly thanks to the fucking coma.

Over the course of the few hours he’d been sorting, he finally managed to shove over half the boxes into the spot designated for donation. He lit himself a cigarette, stepping out of the stall onto the gravel drive to look around at the darkened sky. Stars lit up the sky and he found himself smiling, remembering that his parents had chosen this house because it was outside of the city and allowed them their quiet and low key existence for decades. It was fucking beautiful when you got right down to it. With no light pollution from the city, the entire sky was dotted with twinkling stars and probably some planets too, if he was remembering the bits and pieces he’d learned through the years. To think he’d considered selling the place at one point.

Wait, had he really considered it? Or had that been when he’d been trying to pin point whether or not something weird was afoot? He couldn’t remember anymore. It felt like he’d considered it, maybe a fleeting thought in the wake of his father’s passing. Caught up in grief, every inch of the house bringing nothing but memories and pain. He frowned as he crunched the cigarette out beneath his shoe. Didn’t matter anymore. He was here and he wasn’t going to even consider selling. This was his home. This was Tessie’s home and Lexi’s home. And once he and Tessie passed on, it would go to Ben and Lexi.

He turned to step back into the garage stall, mumbling under his breath as he went to grab another box to shove over to the donation pile. A strange noise from the house made him freeze, perking his head up with his eyes now locked on the house. It almost sounded like something crashing. The silence stretched uncomfortably and Alec debated briefly over returning to his task or checking on what had happened. Another sound hit his ears and this was something he couldn’t ignore. More crashing, following by what sounded like a scream. Tessie’s screams. Alec remained frozen in place only for a moment before running towards the front door of the house. “Tess! Lexi!” he barked, twisting the knob and groaning when he realized the door was locked. “Oi, lemme in!” From within the house he could hear the sound of struggle, something smashing hard, followed by another scream cut short. “No, no, no,” he moaned, backing away from the door and looking frantically at the windows. What the hell was going on? Was this another phantom? No, the screams he’d heard had no doubt been Tessie.

Circling around the house, he paused at the open French doors. No more sounds could be heard and he could feel the hairs on his body now standing on end. He could sense something in the house. Christ, he really could pick up another presence. His parents had told him similar things once, hadn’t they? Being able to pick up if someone else had been in their home. Like some sort of weird evolutionary throwback. He exhaled slowly, barely aware of the fact that he’d held his breath, creeping through the lounge and foyer and pausing briefly in the kitchen. The hob was still on, the blue flames from the gas dancing softly. On the floor lay a pan, the food contents splattered across the floor and cupboards. He remained frozen in place, scanning over the pasta and alfredo sauce before blinking and stepping around it to shut the burner down. Tessie had been in here, he could see footprints and smears in the sauce on the floor. His eyes followed the tracked foot through the kitchen and towards the sitting room. White smears that had flecks of red and some pink mixed in, traveling up the stairs.

Unable to shake the sensation that something had invaded the house, he turned towards the broom closet, digging around until he found the box. Opening up the box, he pulled out the aging Ruger. His father had pointed out the weapon’s location shortly before Mum had passed. The gun was hot, his father admitting that neither he nor Hailey would have passed any in depth background checks to legally obtain the weapon. After Murdoc had passed, Alec had considered turning the gun in, but for whatever reason, just never got around to it. He was quite glad he hadn’t because if someone was in the house, he wasn’t about to hang around and wait to find out if they were armed. He loaded the gun with shaking hands, finally confident that he was ready to face whatever had invaded his home, whether it be a spirit or flesh and blood intruder.

Taking a breath, he mounted the stairs slowly, his eyes on the smears of alfredo that finally faded out upon reaching the upper level of the house. “Tess?” he called out cautiously, looking around carefully. “Lex?” He remained fixed at the top of the stairs, despising the silence that responded. Though part of him insisted he had no reason to be afraid, every other part of him was pointing out that being afraid was what led to surviving as a species. He took a breath and started to slowly walk down the hall, his eyes on the master bedroom door, which was cracked open. What was the house preparing to dish up now? Would he be faced with phantom images of his sister’s assault on their father? Alec closed his eyes and shook his head. Christ, he hoped not. But given the horrifying things the house had revealed to him, he realized that it could be anything at this point. He took a few deep breaths as he reached the door and nudged it open.

Initially, he didn’t see anything, but as his eyes adjusted the dim light, he realized the room was in disarray, the lamp that normally sat on Tessie’s side of the bed now on the floor and casting the room in ugly dim light and shadows. Items were broken on the floor and some things were overturned on the dresser. He continued to step into the room, his gaze falling onto the bed finally. A noise erupted from him, a strained sound that rose in volume as he rushed to the bed. All he could see was blood. Spread all over the bed, streaked across the walls. He scrambled onto the bed, moaning as he reached the figure tangled in the sheets and bedding, blue eyes open but dull. Tears sprang to his eyes as he took in the state of the body laying across the bed. However Tessie had been ambushed, she’d fought back, but whoever had attacked her had brutalized her. She’d been pinned faced down as her attacker beat her across the head until the whole back of her head had been crushed in. The weapon appeared to be the other lamp that had been on his side of the bed, now laying over by the pillows, covered in blood, skull and hair. “Tessie,” he whimpered, cradling the lifeless form on the bed. She was covered in cuts and bruises, some of the cuts deep enough that even if the attacker hadn’t bashed her skull in, she would have died from the loss of blood. Alec shook his head, his lips quivering as he pulled her into his arms, half moaning and half rocking with her, staring at her face. The shock of her attack etched permanently onto her. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, everything blurring out of focus as the tears fell.

Alec blinked, slowly lifting his head towards the door. Lexi was home. He’d seen her things strewn across the house. “Lexi,” he whimpered, scrambling from the bed, barely conscious of the fact that his clothes were thick and sticky with blood. He stumbled across the room, leaning in the doorway briefly before reaching the door that led to Lexi’s bedroom and shoving the door open.

He wasn’t aware that the wails he heard were his own. White noise and static in his head as he dropped to the floor next to the battered body that lay by the bed. Lexi lay twisted at an odd angle, half on her stomach with a hand reaching out. Alec shook his head, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. How had this happened? Much like Tess, her head had been bashed countless times and the weapon lay several feet away, a heavy figurine that had once belonged to Hailey, something Lexi had fancied and had asked if she could have. Most of the figurine was now smashed to bits, some of those bits still tangled in Lexi’s hair. A sob broke free, more tears falling as he nudged at the girl’s body, rolling her over and seeing that her throat had been slashed as well. Eyes closed, almost peaceful. Alec took a few shaky breaths, his hands trembling and heart pounding. He needed to find who had done this. Was it a robbery gone wrong?

Climbing numbly to his feet, he stepped out into the hall, briefly wondering how the attack had unfolded. Had Lexi been attacked first and then whoever it was had gone down and tried to attack Tess in the kitchen? He didn’t know. He probably would never know. The hand that held the gun was sweating now as he traveled down the hallway, pausing at the top of the stairs. Every hair stood up again, his ears pricked to every little sound around him. Staring down the stairs, he became acutely aware of movement behind him and he spun – too late – with the gun raised up and catching sight of someone rushing at him and shoving him backward. He caught a glimpse of the face, narrow and gaunt with dark eyes marred by heavy black circles, their grey hair pulled back. Everything spun in his vision as he rolled back down the steps, hitting the first landing hard. The gun, where the fuck was the gun! He pushed himself up to his feet, raising his head up to see the figure now stepping down towards him. “Amy,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “How? Where?”

She was still clad in the clothing she wore at the hospital, simple grey cotton sweats, those most of it was now covered in blood. Even her gaunt face had blood smears and what looked to be a set of scratches across one side of her face, probably from Lexi or Tess. Christ, this wasn’t happening was it? Alec backed away as she came down, a strange smile on her face. This had to be a nightmare. A hallucination. No, she was indeed standing there now and looking right at him, a bloody knife in her hand. All the blood. His wife’s blood. His daughter’s blood. There was even blood on her mouth, as if she’d torn at them with her fucking teeth. She paused briefly, still a few steps away, looking him over carefully. It briefly occurred to him just how much she’d aged. She looked even older than him.

“Why?” he croaked, backing into the wall on the landing. What other word could he ask? She didn’t say anything, though, merely staring at him with those strangely empty dark brown eyes. His stomach quaked and every part of him trembled as she continued to look him over. He was fucking trapped, wasn’t he? Braced against this wall with her standing maybe only a few yards away at the most. Inching along the wood paneling, he almost yelped aloud when his shoulder connected with something, anticipating some other horrifying atrocity and glancing over fretfully to see the black bass. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he reached up and grabbed it, ripping it from the bracket. Amy jerked forward, the knife raised just as he swung the bass as hard as he could, clipping her hard in the side of the face and sending her to the landing in a heap. Half screaming and half sobbing, he raised the bass over his head and brought it down, watching as it snapped across her back, shards of wood and metal bits flying up into his face. He dropped the neck of the old bass, his feet tangling as he tried to get down the final five or six steps, crashing into the floor hard.

From up on the landing, he could hear her groaning and moving. He needed to get up, needed to get out. Alec lifted his head, spying the Ruger laying over near the entryway to the kitchen. He pushed himself up as much as he could, crawling towards the gun. Grabbing the gun, he scrambled back to his feet, hearing Amy stumbling down the steps. He spun around, suddenly faced with her as she tackled him back against the kitchen island, the knife raised. Sputtering protests as he raised the old Ruger, squeezing the trigger. The report was deafening and Amy flung to the side, half screeching as she clutched the side of her head. His own ears ringing, he turned towards the lounge, not bothering to check if he’d managed to hit her or not. He just needed to get out, to get away from her. Half sobbing and half gasping, he plunged through the lounge and out the French doors, hearing her step behind him.

He ran across the back property, glancing over his shoulder, willing numb and heavy legs to move. He’d never been able to run beyond a half trot, but the flight to fight reflex was an amazing thing, adrenaline pumping through him as he pushed himself to keep moving. Footing escaped him upon reaching the incline and he tumbled down with a squawk of surprise. Laying at the bottom of the incline, he took a few labored breaths before raising himself up and scrambling towards the woods. He could still hear her, panting like an animal behind him. He crashed through the woods, half tripping over shrubs and other vegetation, unable to see the path and not caring. He just knew he needed to get somewhere he could hide. She was still giving chase, probably only yards away from him. Too many noises around him, leaves and vegetation being disrupted as she crashed through it all. He stumbled into the clearing, panting and scrambling as his footing almost gave away again. “Please, Amy, stop!” he panted.

“You took ever’thin’ from me!” she wailed, emerging at the other side of the clearing. “The letter from Dad...said I got only what Mum left for me. Said I was dead t’ him. Said that he hated me.” Alec remained frozen, watching her carefully. It was too bloody dark, her figure little more than a light colored shadow. “You took their attention! You took their love! Left me with nothin'!”

He wasn’t sure if he should respond. He uttered a few muttered curses as he struggled to cock the Ruger for another shot, his hands slicked with sweat. She was moving again, charging towards him. She crashed into him as hard as she could, both of them tumbling over the embankment and into the sand by the creek. She was on top of him, her face inches away as she raised the knife and plunged it down into his chest. His breath stopped momentarily, eyes wide with shock. It felt like a papercut at first, following by a burning sensation that soon fired up every nerve in his body. Screeching against the pain, he struggled to raise the gun. He felt woozy and lightheaded even as she pulled the knife out and lashed out towards his face. It felt like the blade had barely nicked him just under his chin. Growling in triumph, he managed to pull the gun around, grabbing at her hair with his other hand and pressing the short muzzle of the Ruger towards her face. He opened his mouth to speak, his voice dying at his lips. He tried again, feeling wetness but every effort to speak was met with a strange tightness and words that refused to come out. Never mind that. She was fighting to free herself, one hand trying desperately to wrench away his grip. He felt strangely light headed, the world around him fading out to tunnel vision as he remained focused on that twisted and gaunt face. Though he could barely feel his hands, he tangled his fingers into her hair, gripping down hard as he shoved the gun at her face, squeezing the trigger.

***************************

Alec shook awake with a start, the scream dying in his throat as he looked frantically around the bedroom. Blinking, he sat up in bed and scrubbed his hands across his face. Fully awake now, he frowned as he took in the state of the bedroom. Tessie’s side of the bed was empty and cold, indicating she’d been up a while now. Though the nightmare nagged at him, he realized with each passing moment that he remembered very little of it. Vague blurry memory of running across the grass, but that was it. Everything else about it evaporating into the recesses of his mind. What the hell had it been about anyway? Sighing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed his lounge pants. He could hear Tessie and Lexi downstairs, chattering away about things he didn’t care to hear about. Girly rubbish and the like. Tessie hollered at him about breakfast and he smiled to himself as he padded down the hall, hearing Lexi say her good-byes before the slam of the front door indicated her departure for school.

He allowed his mind to wander, though part of him kept nagging about the nightmare. What was so important about the nightmare anyway? Bad dreams weren’t that uncommon, right? Not even more men his age. He scratched at himself absently as he looked around through the rooms. Hard not to be impressed with everything they’d done to the house to make it theirs. His parents’ furnishings mostly stored away in the old basement apartment, even Amy’s old room had been stripped of her belongings and repainted. Lexi’s room was the typical teen room, every inch of her walls covered with that blasted boy band he couldn’t stand.

He needed to get in touch with Ben. They’d discussed him giving Alec a hand around the house with some of the projects he’d had planned out. Still had to go out and pick up the brush mower rental. He’d planned to mainly tackle the yard today, getting out the power washer to clear the patio and then use the brush mower rental to clear away the overgrowth of the back yard and property. With his parents failing health and advanced ages, most of the property had been neglected. Ben had offered to help, willing to travel down from Sheffield. Might also have him pick up a mate or two. As long as it wasn’t that atrocious little toe-rag who kept eye-balling Lexi. Alec had been horrified at how blatant the cunt had been about it. He was fully aware that Lexi had grown overnight and wore clothes that made him immensely uncomfortable but this did not make her any less a child. She was only sixteen. Alec had tried to turn a blind eye to the blatant staring, but ended up telling Ben to get the muppet out of his house before he knocked him around a bit.

Emerging into the kitchen, he spotted Tessie nursing her mug of coffee with the paper open in front of her. Though he still felt like something was amiss, he was glad to see her sitting there with her coffee, oblivious to his presence as she skimmed through some of the articles. He claimed his own seat at the head of the table, feeling fleeting pains at this. This had always been his Dad’s spot. And now it was his, with Tessie sitting where his own Mum had once sat. It felt strange but felt right at the same time. And just like Hailey being the early riser of the family, making sure everything was ready to go once the house had come to life, Tessie appeared to be starting the same routine. Alec nursed his coffee, watching as Tessie continued to read without looking up. He felt blessed, happy. Though he was dully aware of something nagging at him, he pushed it aside as he took in the little wrinkle in her forehead and how intense her blue eyes were when she was reading. How was she so fucking beautiful? Never know she was middle age, tall and slim, whatever skin care regiment she had clearly working for her. Wish he could say the same for himself. He knew he looked his age. Mostly grey, even his beard, with a nice paunch that was starting to rest on his belt. He’d lost count of how often he’d examined his reflection in the bathroom mirror, realizing he’d seen his own father do the same thing once age started catching up with him. Never mind him. Tess was the beauty queen. His queen. Smiling, he reached out and graped at her hand. “An’thin’ good in the paper today?” When her eyes surfaced from the paper with a lovely and coy little smile, his own smile broadened. “It’s been slow news the last week or so.”


	8. Epilogue

The small red compact that belonged to the realtor was already parked in the gravel drive when Ben pulled his own car in and parked along side it. Stepping out, he looked around and caught sight of the petite realtor over by the trees in the front part of the property. Lola was a petite woman in her fifties with sharp features and blond hair that was pulled into a high and tight ponytail without a hair out of place. Upon seeing him, she waved and briskly walked towards him. “Was startin’ t’ worry ‘bout you, Ben.”

“Caught up in some traffic,” he said as he surveyed the property. “Usual late afternoon rubbish.” He lit himself a cigarette and casually followed behind Lola as they surveyed the property. It felt a bit strange being there again after so long. He hadn’t stepped foot on the property in over a decade. It brought too many memories and too much fucking pain. His wife refused to take a step onto the property and had been encouraging him to sell it off and free himself of it once and for all. Not to say he hadn’t tried! He’d been trying to rid himself of the property for years now.

Lola paused over the packed dirt area where the house had once stood. “Still has the original connections for water an’ electricity. Could probably have a new house built.”

Ben shook his head. “I’m not gonna put an’more money in t’ it, Lola. We can sell the land as is. Whoever buys it can build somethin’ on it.”

“Reckon it will sell better without the house?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

Ben shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Dunno, t’ be honest. Dun’ really care. We’ve tried leasin’ it out an’ tried sellin’ it with the house an’ people get spooked off upon findin’ out what happened here. I dun’ blame them, really, but maybe if it’s the land ‘lone, people might be more apt t’ consider it.”

“Gotta love disclosure laws, eh?” she said through a weird laugh. “But you’re right...I dunno an’one who would buy the house an’ live in it knowin’ what had happened here...”

Ben kicked at some rocks beneath his shoes, scanning around the property and finally stopping where the clearing was. “I’d kinda hoped that maybe with it bein’ Murdoc Niccals’ old home, it might entice some buyers, but reckon I was wrong in that.”

Lola smiled in response but said nothing further as they continued to walk around the property. Ben could feel phantom tremors, remembering the morning he’d showed up at the house. After Alec had inherited the house upon Murdoc’s passing, he’d been hellbent on trying to fix it up a bit and maybe modernize it enough to make it more livable for him, Tess and Lexi. Ben had offered to help with this, knowing his father was limited in what he was capable of doing. Though the tremor in his hands had been manageable and he could walk most of the time without needing the cane, he’d still needed steady hands and someone who could stand on a ladder without fear of falling down. That had been where Ben would come in. He’d even detoured to the hardware store and picked up those fittings needed for the blasted toilet in the little basement apartment.

He’d showed up that morning with everything Alec had requested. The front door had been locked and when he’d received no response to his knocks or even hollered greetings, he’d stepped around and found the French doors wide open. Though part of him resisted stepping inside the house, he’d done so and had come across the kitchen with the overturned pan with the crusted and coagulated alfredo sauce that was everywhere, including numerous footprints. He’d gone upstairs, stepping around the busted black bass and dully noting the blood spatter here and there, unsure of what he was going to find but dreading the worst. He’d found Lexi first, only because the door had been left wide open and upon finding Tessie in the master suite, he’d panicked and rushed downstairs hollering for his Dad. He’d found so sign of Alec, though it was clear there’d been a struggle through the house. How else would Grandad’s old black bass have ended up busted into pieces on the landing? He’d even found a spot in the kitchen that looked like a bullet hole.

Ben closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he flicked his cigarette to the damp grass. Whoever the bass had struck, it had drawn blood and it had left a small trail across the tiled patio and grass, leading to the woods. Though reason said he needed to call the police, he had rushed across the yard and through the woods, finally stumbling across the bodies of his father and aunt laying in the sand by the creek. Amy had been laying next to his father’s body, on her side, dead from what appeared to be a gunshot wound. He could see where the bullet had gone in, just under the soft tissue of her chin and though difficult to tell, it appeared the bullet had exited at the back of her skull. Alec had been laying flat on his back in the sand, his throat cut but the gun still partially in his hand. Ben had rushed like hell out of there, almost falling into his car as he’d called the police, half sobbing at the operator as he pulled out of the drive and drove a ways down the road before finally pulling over and breaking down completely.

They’d never figured out how Amy had escaped, though it was suspected she’d managed to nick someone’s badge and somehow waltzed right out. Ben hadn’t cared how. He had still been torn up over the _why_. After Grandad had passed, he’d apparently left a few documents for Amy and they’d been letters and legal documents. Grandad had washed his hands of her, had told her he’d never forgive her for what she’d done – whatever the hell that had been – and essentially left her with nothing but a trust fund Gran had set up for her. Ben had found out through the doctors at Rampton that Amy had felt overshadowed by her older brother and emotionally neglected by their parents. Apparently the letter and legal documents had been the final straw and she’d spiraled. The doctors had worked with her for months to come to terms with being officially abandoned and cut completely out of the estate and the family’s lives. They’d thought they had been successful, but Amy had been smart enough to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes long enough to get what was needed to escape.

Though the house and property had been willed to Ben via his father’s own will, because it had become a crime scene, it had taken months to get the property back. At the time, he hadn’t really cared because he’d been too fucking traumatized by what he’d found on the property, but it apparently had been nothing compared to what had been found when the police started bringing in dogs and sonar machines. There’d still been some belief that Amy may have hid bodies on the property, though numerous searches prior to his grandparents passing had resulted in nothing. The sonar machines had made a hit over at the clearing with the rocks and birch trees. More machinery had been brought in to dig up the site and human remains had been discovered. Old remains. Initially, they were thought to be more victims of Amy’s, but forensics determined them too old. For weeks the remains were kept with evidence, identified only as Jane and John Doe.

Then Ben had found his Grandad’s journals tucked away in a lock box located in the detached garage. Jane and John Doe were given names. Names he’d never heard before. Alicia Hunter and Harvey Burnes, identified finally through dental records after local authorities put the word out to the United States. Hunter’s remains had been dismembered but forensics had found indicators that she’d been alive when buried, though Ben had no idea how they’d been able to determine that. Hunter had been reported missing out of Seattle in the fall 2015, when his father had been just a small child. Burnes had been reported missing around summer of 2021. The journals had been taken as evidence, finally linking the disappearances and deaths to his grandparents. But it had also pieced together another family mystery – the origin of his father’s disabilities. The Hunter woman had somehow gotten access to his father when he’d been just a tot and had beat him so severely it had caused significant neurological damage, resulting in tremors, difficulty walking and seizures. Ben’s grandparents had killed the woman and buried her on the property. Burnes had been a private investigator looking into Hunter’s disappearance and had vanished shortly after taking the cold case. It was assumed he’d gotten too close to finding out what had become of Hunter and that had been why they’d killed him. The authorities looking into it had never been able to figure out how his grandparents had managed to bring Hunter to the UK, but it had finally closed the book on two fifty year old cold cases and had brought closure for what remained of the victims’ families.

The media had run with all of it for a while and he had reasoned this was normal. Celebrity family, celebrity killer and finding out the parents of their celebrity killer had killed people as well. Fortunately for him, it was short lived notoriety. A little over a year after he’d first discovered the bodies of his remaining family, Ben had finally gotten the house back and had gone to work on fixing it up in the hopes he could sell it. He’d hired Lola to help with this and the two of them worked hard in making sure the house was up to par. She’d even helped him remove most of the police tape still tied up around the property. All the furnishings and personal belongings were moved out and put into storage until Ben could properly go through everything. They’d wrangled contractors to come in and remodel the inside of the home, updating the kitchen and bathrooms. A few mates suggested he and his wife move into the home, but Ben had refused because he wasn’t about to sleep in a house where his entire family had been murdered.

He’d tried marketing the home any way he could. Highlighting the fact that it had belonged to the one and only Murdoc Niccals, but the crimes of the home overshadowed the ownership and not many people were interested. A few clueless folks had expressed interest in the home due to its previous ownership, but thanks to disclosure laws, he had to reveal that people had been murdered in the home and on the property, which scared the interested parties off.

Lola had handled all of this mostly on her own, only conferring to Ben when it became necessary. He’d inherited a large sum of money as well as the house and property and luckily the inheritance had helped cover the taxes paid on the property through the first few years he’d tried and failed to sell the property. Lola suggested leasing it in the meantime, citing that having people living in it after the crimes might also make potential buyers less leery of the home. So they went to work setting up leasing contracts and figured their best bet was to make it available for cheap. Entice renters and possibly turn them into a potential buyer if they lived in the house for a length of time and had loved the home.

Four years after his father, stepmother and sister had been killed in the home, he had handed over the keys to a quaint little family of four who happily signed a two year leasing contract. The parents were around his age and they’d had twin daughters who were around five at the time. Things had gone well for a while. They’d repainted the home with some atrocious primary color scheme, but overall paid their monthly dues on time and he’d even had hope that they might actually be interested in buying. And though they’d been told to reach out to Lola for anything the property or home may need, the husband had started calling him directly. They’d started hearing noises at night. It started with hearing what sounded like someone messing with the toilet down in the basement though nothing was found. Sounds of footsteps upstairs when all of them had been down in the lounge. Footsteps in the attic.

One of their daughters spoke of seeing a strange man in the house or on the property. A short man with a beard. She’d seen him for the first time out in the woods and that was how Ben had found out that they’d overlooked the police tape over near the creek where his father’s body had been found. The little girl had also found a blue trainer tangled in some roots on the embankment, identified as his father’s also. Ben found out that the husband hadn’t told his wife about what had happened on the property and she’d been livid. The girl had seen the bearded man again about two years later in the master bedroom. The other daughter mentioned a little girl with black hair who was seen near the basement and sometimes the black haired girl would be seen upstairs in the room closes to the stairs. Both girls had become terrified of the basement, saying there was a scary lady tied to a chair with one eye and a wide smile who kept crying. The bearded man was seen a few more times usually sitting at the table or out in the back yard. The family eventually had decided they’d had enough. Though the husband had been adamant he’d seen nothing strange, his wife had said she’d been certain she’d seen someone crawling in through a window in the sitting room, but when she’d turn to look, she’d see nothing. They’d left in such a hurry, they hadn’t even bothered to repaint the walls.

Ben hadn’t given any of their claims much credence because he just didn’t believe any of that rubbish. He assumed with them knowing the history of the house, they were either making shit up or just had over active imaginations. Then Lola had a moment while going through the empty house to see what was going to be needed to get it back on the market. She’d insisted it had felt like she was being followed, even hearing one of the stairs creek behind her as she was heading up the stairs. She’d seen nothing, but stated it felt like something was staring directly at her on the steps. She’d left the house in a panic and had been certain she’d seen a bearded man on the landing of the stairs as she fled the house.

Though Ben had still been hesitant to believe even the realtor, he’d decided it was time to figure out just what kind of future he would have with the home and property. He and Jordan had discussed at length what should be done. The old house was a money pit, even after the extensive remodel and too many people were spooked by what had taken place there. In the end, they both agreed that the best course of action was to have the house demolished and try to sell the property alone. Though it had sounded like a simple solution, he’d found out that it was another nightmare of permits, red tape and numerous applications. It had taken forever to finally get the green light and on the eighth anniversary of the murders, he had construction crews on the property with their machines and watched via a video feed as they tore the old carriage house down and hauled away the remains. It had been a strangely emotional moment for him, feeling tears burn and fall as they took the house down little by little, catching glimpses of spaces he remembered fondly as a child himself. It had been one thing to suggest it and plan it, but another thing entirely watching it happen. He’d spent the first five years of his life in that home. He had memories in that home – good memories. Grandad flipping him shit or even his own Dad barking at Grandad to stop. Gran and her turnovers. The garden he’d helped harvest because Gran couldn’t get around as well as before. Decades of memories resorted to shattered stone, wood and drywall.

Ben sighed, kicking at some of the rocks on the ground as he and Lola continued their trek through the property. Most of the area where the house had once stood had finally started to see some new growth and it was near impossible to tell that a house had been sitting there just two years ago. He looked up and realized that she was leading him towards the woods. Part of him resisted going into there, even with the path cleared and tidy. He paused at the treeline, looking up at the massive oaks and birch trees, feeling his nerve waver even as Lola disappeared into the foliage. He could still see the bodies laying on the embankment of the creek. Still see his father’s passive face staring skyward and Amy’s own surprised gawk even with half her face buried in the sand. Could still see the blood. He took a breath, exhaling slowly as he started down the path. Lola was in the weird clearing right before the creek, looking around. They’d already disposed of the remaining police tape and it now looked no different than any other wooded clearing. He’d even removed the old Tonka truck found near the beginning of the path and the little indicators left by his father and sister when they’d been small children. He paused at the center, looking up at the canopy of foliage from the trees and everything else. There was nothing left that indicated his family’s presence on the property now save for the carving on the old oak that flanked the entryway of the path. The family name and the year his grandparents had purchased the house, carved deep into the old oak and still visible decades later.

Lola cracked a sympathetic smile. “You could a’ways just build somethin’ new on the land, Ben. You dun’ have t’ sell it off.”

Ben shrugged half heartedly, leaning against one of the trees. “Struggled with the idea for a while, Lola, but I think this will be best. Lots of good memories here, but they’re overshadowed by the bad. B’sides, got a nice house with Jordan an’ the kids an’ I dun’ think we’ll be movin’ out of there an’time soon.”

“Whatever b’came of your Grandad’s mates, the ones he was in a band with? Did you ever hear from their kids or grandkids? Maybe they’d be interested?”

Ben shook his head. “Stepmum’s parents passed shortly after Grandad passed. She was an only child. Never heard back from Isaac or Elijah. Reached out t’ them when me an’ Jordan an’ the kids had gone t’ the states t’ attend their father’s funeral. Found out their Mum is in a nursin’ home now. A few people who knew Russel an’ Kylie had mentioned bein’ glad they hadn’t lived in England b’cause clearly this branch of the fam was cursed.” He erupted into a bitter chuckle. “Fuckin’ cursed! I’m in a mind t’ believe them, if you want me t’ be honest.”

Lola smiled sympathetically but said nothing else, resting a hand on his shoulder before dropping it away and walking back towards the main property. With the house now gone, there was hope he could sell the land. Let someone else build a new and nice modern home where they could live their lives. Maybe they’d be able to carry it on generation after generation, much like Grandad had hoped for Alec and Ben when he’d first purchased the home. Shame it never happened that way.

He trailed behind the realtor as they emerged from the trees and up the incline. Lola mentioned some paperwork they could go over and Ben could only nod as she got into her car. This was it, wasn’t it? Until they had an interested buyer, this would be the last time he’d clap eyes on the land. It wasn’t like there was nothing left of his Grandad’s achievements, though. Personal belongings and awards along with numerous unused demos were now tucked away in his study back at his own home. One of Murdoc’s bass guitars, a mint green one Ben had found hung up behind the bar was now in the possession of Ben’s eight year old son, Quinn. Alec’s plush puppy and blanket, something he’d had as a tot, had gone to Ben’s little girl, Penelope, who was only two. She’d loved the plushie and blanket and Quinn had been excited about inheriting one of his great-Grandad’s bass guitars. A few collectors had reached out to him with the hopes of acquiring some of his late grandfather’s awards and memorabilia, but Ben had sent them packing empty handed with threats of bodily harm if they ever contacted him again. These items belonged to his family and that was where they would remain. Couldn’t deny there was some sadness in realizing that soon the property would change hands again, but he had come to terms with it. The land was just that – merely land. It had remained in the family long enough to see three generations pass through, but everything else that had been dear to the family was still with him.


End file.
